


the golden age

by angellwings



Series: the worthwhile fight [2]
Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Friendship/Love, Making Plans, One Shot Collection, Part of the good/right/real universe, Romance, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:27:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 60,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28170909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angellwings/pseuds/angellwings
Summary: A one shot collection that is a continuation of the good/right/real universe. Now featuring a one shot set during 4x21:Sylvie is already at the Firehouse when the rest of second shift begins to trickle in. She worked first shift so she’s in her uniform, counting inventory on 61, as Matt steps foot on the app floor.He’s been consumed with guilt the last 24 hours and funnels it into the house. He installed the countertop on the island yesterday and then began demolishing the other half of the old kitchen cabinets. He hates avoiding her or lying to her. A part of him wants to spill his guts but then another part of him thinks it’s not her load to bear. His fears could hurt her more deeply than his avoidance.
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Series: the worthwhile fight [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2063619
Comments: 359
Kudos: 309





	1. 4x05: When. Not If.

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Okay, here it is! The first one shot in the g/r/r universe! 
> 
> This is going to be more like dropping in on them as their relationship progresses and will focus more on Brettsey than Shayfferty or Stellaride. (Though those couples will be mentioned and you will get updates on their stories and statuses through Brett and Casey.) I have plans for several of these already! Some meant to be short and others may be posted in one or two parts but ALL will be posted in this collection so keep an eye out for updates! 
> 
> This won’t be updated as regularly as a multichap or typically have one continuous plot like a multichap but I thought putting them in one big collection would be easier to locate and read through than posting them all as individual one shots in a series.
> 
> Anyway, let’s get on with the show! This is the first one ever and it is set during 4x05! Enjoy!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo
> 
> ******

The condo sold surprisingly fast. He knew his improvements would make it valuable but he didn’t think it would be gone in a matter of weeks. The 30 day closing period is half over and Casey is just now getting around to looking for another place. He has no excuse for it. The house hasn’t been any busier than normal. He could maybe use the construction business as a reason since he’s in the usual take-advantage-of-the-remaining-warm-weather rush. It’s the time of year procrastinators call him to get jobs done before the weather turns cold and outdoor jobs become near impossible. But even still he hasn’t been _that_ busy.

He’s made plenty of time for Sylvie, after all, and been to Molly’s nearly every free night. He had the time to house hunt. He just...didn’t.

The real reason, truthfully, is that his options seem too wide open. There’s no one in his ear listing off things they don’t want so he has no real parameters to work with except his own.

Sylvie’s not moving into the place with him, of course. They’re only 3 and a half months into their relationship and as in love with Sylvie as he is, even he knows that’s too much too soon. In hindsight, he and Gabby jumped into that too quickly and he didn’t want to repeat that mistake again. But just because she wasn’t moving in didn’t mean he couldn’t keep her in mind.

He’s committing to a decades long mortgage, after all. It’s possible that whatever place he buys will eventually be her home too. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to at least make sure she likes the place too. Just in case.

His realtor sent him an email full of possible listings and it was completely overwhelming. Since he hadn’t been able to narrow anything down for her, she sent him _everything_. Townhomes, condos, brownstones, cottage style houses, historical homes--anything and everything under the sun.

He’s scrolling through the links in the email when Sylvie appears at the door to his quarters. He turns and immediately smiles at her.

“Good morning,” he says as she steps inside and shuts the door behind her.

She stops behind his desk chair and rests her hands on his shoulders. He carefully pushes the chair back on two legs so he can crane his neck to look at her. She grins down at him and plants an upside down kiss on his lips.

“Good morning,” she repeats when they pull apart and his chair legs rest safely on the floor again. “I missed you last night.”

He scoots the chair back from his desk, wraps an arm around her waist, and pulls her into his lap. “I missed you too. But trust me you would not have wanted me waking you up as early as I had to get up this morning. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night.”

“You’d better,” she playfully replies, running an idle hand through his hair. Her eyes turn toward the laptop and widen eagerly. “Oh! Are these your options you were telling me about?”

He rests his forehead against her shoulder and groans as if he’s in pain. “Too many options. I don’t even know where to start.”

“That’s easy,” she says, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Start with what you don’t want. You’re a contractor, I’m sure you can spot some big red warning signs on some of these listings just by looking through the pictures. Start there. Weed out the ones that don’t meet your standards and then see what’s left.”

“That’s brilliant!” he says, staring at her in awe. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you’re making it more complicated than it actually is, as you tend to do,” she tells him with a teasing chuckle. “I love you, but you know it’s true.”

He tugs on the end of her french braid and smirks crookedly at her. “Takes one to know one, Sylvie Brett.”

“True enough,” she admits through a laugh.

“Hey, listen, I was thinking--”

_“Engine 51, Truck 81, Squad 3, Ambo 61. House fire--”_

“Hold that thought,” Sylvie tells him, stealing a quick kiss before jumping off his lap and sprinting toward the app floor.

_“4738 South Calumet Avenue.”_

And so the day begins. Being interrupted by the bells is nothing new for either of them and it’s not like it’s a question that can’t wait. He was merely going to suggest that she go look at some of the listings with him when the time comes. But he’ll do as asked and hold that thought for later.

They show up to a full blaze, with a wedding party congregating on the front lawn and the groom frantically trying to get back inside. Matt shouts to get his attention in his most authoritative voice.

“Hold on. Hold on. Hey! What happened. Who’s inside?”

“The bride, the pastor, the maid of honor,” a friend of the groom answers. “They were getting ready in back.”

“Chief, we’ve got a fully involved structure fire. Multiple victims inside.”

 _“51, we need lines in there now_. _”_

“Herrmann, Borrelli, with me,” Casey orders as they head inside. Before they can make it inside, the groom breaks away from his friend and rushes in. He has to push the friend back from following him in. “Stay back. Guys, let’s go.”

As they’re slowly working their way toward the back the groom comes crawling out of the room next to them. “She’s in there!” He yells, gesturing to a specific room.

“Don’t talk!” Casey admonishes. “Let’s go.”

Casey understands how the man feels, but he can’t let that get in the way of his job. By the time they’ve found David and the room with where the Bride, Maid of Honor, and Pastor are seeking shelter the whole hallway is engulfed in flames and they’re trapped. He calls out their location to Boden, knowing he’ll find a way to get to them. Now they need to focus on keeping the civilians breathing.

Once Squad has the security bars off, Casey breaks the glass with his halligan and clears the sill of any fragments or shards. They use a ladder and a backboard to evacuate the civilians and then themselves. Once they get the victims to Shay and Brett it’s clear the groom is the one in the most danger. He inhaled more smoke than anyone else.

He and Sylvie trade encouraging nods as she’s loaded into the back with the bride and the groom. He can tell by the look on her face that Sylvie’s already invested and he can’t really blame her. This was supposed to be the best day of this couple’s lives and now not only is it ruined but one of them is seriously injured.

Ambo rushes off to Med, leaving 81 and Squad to clean up the scene.

He sees Sylvie again a half hour later when 61 pulls back into the house. He’s been back a few minutes already and ran a check on 81, making sure everything’s in order.

“Hey, how’d it go?” He asks.

“They admitted the groom for smoke inhalation,” Shay answers.

Sylvie nods and finishes. “But otherwise everyone seemed okay. I left my number with Becca, the bride, in case they need anything.”

He smiles softly at her and catches her stare with his. “Of course you did.”

“Speaking of,” Shay says, grabbing Sylvie’s arm and nodding toward the house. “We need to catch Chief before he gets pulled into a meeting or a phone call. Time sensitive mission, remember?”

“Oh! Right! Be back in a minute,” she tells him as Shay drags her along toward the doors into the house.

His brow furrows as he watches them leave. Time sensitive mission? What the hell is Shay talking about? He finishes up inventory and then heads to his quarters. He starts crossing off options in the email his realtor sent him. First thing he does is knock out all the condos. He never really wanted a condo in the first place. It was what Gabby wanted and he wanted to make her happy. He could live with it if she was happy but he’d prefer more space. Then he started going through the pictures like Sylvie suggested. 

He was a quarter of a way through the list by the time she showed back up at his door.

“Hey,” she says, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of his chair. “House meeting in the common room. Chief’s orders.”

“Okay,” he says as he’s yanked along behind her. “You gonna give me a heads up about what this is about?”

She slows to match his steps and loops her arm through his. “We’re hosting Becca and David’s wedding first thing in the morning. Boden jumped at the chance to rile up Riddle after the whole 105 and Early fiasco which is good news for Becca and David! If they don’t get married before their family leaves town tomorrow then who knows how long it will be before they can reschedule the wedding. The family put all they had into the ruined one. We’re going to need all of us to pull this off so I’ve got tasks to assign.”

“In a _highly_ organized manner, I’m sure,” he says with a teasing chuckle.

“Hey! Planning is my thing okay? I’m the best person for the job.”

He smirks and nods in agreement. “Oh, I’m not doubting you. Believe me. If anyone knows all about your overplanning tendencies it’s me. How many dress options did you pack for your brother’s rehearsal dinner again?”

She smacks his arm lightly. “You never know when you might spill something! Or when the weather might take an unexpected turn. I was just being prepared.”

“Two dresses is prepared. Four is…” He hesitates to finish his sentence as Sylvie settles a narrowed gaze on him.

“Four dresses is...what?” She prods expectantly.

“Completely and utterly charming,” he answers, leaning down to press his lips to her cheek.

“Good save,” she says with a light laugh.

He takes a seat at the end of the long table next to Herrmann when they reach the common room. Sylvie stands in front of all of them with her clipboard in hand. She passes out tasks as promised. She and Shay are responsible for the flowers. Thanks to Herrmann, Truck is in charge of tracking down Orlovsky, and Squad has the music covered.

Casey barely stifles a laugh at Sylvie’s sass about the whole thing.

“Just need an iPod, right?” Severide asks.

Matt knew that was the wrong answer as the words were leaving Severide’s lips.

“No, nice try,” Sylvie says, a patronizing look on her face. “It’s a wedding not a slumber party. I think you can do better than that.”

Severide gives Matt a surprised yet amused glance with raised eyebrows. Matt smirks and shrugs as if to say he should have known better. Just then Capp stands up and announces he was in an acapella group in high school, causing Severide’s surprised expression to swivel in the other direction.

“You serious?” He asks.

Capp stands. “See for yourself.” He clears his throat and brings a hand to his ear and begins to sing in a voice that is tragically awful. Sylvie’s determined expression quickly turns into a forced polite smile. 

Chuckles sound throughout the room as Severide waves him off. “Capp, let’s just keep that in our back pocket.” He quickly gives Brett a reassuring grin. “We’ll see what else we can come up with, alright?”

She lifts a single brow but nods, jotting something down on the paper attached to her clipboard. “Great, Squad is on it. Okay, people, let’s get to it.”

When no one moves for the first few seconds after she’s finished speaking, she clears her throat and taps her pencil against her clipboard. 

_“Now_.”

The room takes in her stern expression and pursed lips and then immediately springs into action. They’ve learned as much as he has that you don’t get in Sylvie’s way when she’s planning something. Not unless you want to be on the receiving end of her ‘I’m not mad I’m just disappointed’ stare, that is.

Herrmann gets to work tracking down Orlovsky and Matt goes back to his quarters. He finishes going through his list and crossing out the homes that are definitely out. When all is said and done he’s left with 5 listings. He replies to his realtor with those five places and breathes a sigh of relief. It’s one less thing he has to do today.

Now, if he can find Brett he can finish asking her to go look at these places with him--

_“Ambo 61, person in distress, 215 West Belden.”_

Or not.

Okay, time to redirect. He checks in with Herrmann about the Chaplain and it turns out Orlovsky isn’t answering his phone. Matt suspects, with the recent passing of Bobby Dunbar, Orlovsky may be too busy to answer so he starts calling around to find out what might be happening in memory of Bobby. After about an hour of phone calls he finds someone who heard about a ‘wake’ happening at Bobby’s favorite bar.

A ‘wake’ with firefighters at a bar means shooting the shit and getting drunk off your ass. Matt knows this from experience.

Brett and Shay are pulling in with a load of flowers donated from a florist ex-girlfriend of Shay’s (which he’s sure Rafferty will be thrilled to hear about later) when Matt reaches the app floor to get his guys together and go pick up Orlovsky. Before they leave, though, he makes sure they all help unload the flowers.

As he suspected, they find Orlovsky telling wild stories about Dunbar while day drinking. He’s so drunk he can barely walk, but there’s not time to get anyone else and he’s not going to disappoint Brett. They can make this work. They just have to get him sobered up.

They take him back to the house and get him hooked up to fluids and find him a place to sleep it off. He’ll be fine before the morning. He’ll have to be.

Everyone starts working on the floral arrangements together. Matt finds a spot next to Sylvie.

“Hey,” he says quietly, trying hopelessly to put together an arrangement. “That thought you told me to hold on to this morning?”

“Yes?” She asks with a curious smile.

“Well, I got the list of places to look at down to five and I was wondering if you’d go with me. We can set up the meetings for when we’re both free. I’d really like your opinion.”

She stops arranging flowers and flashes him a bright blinding smile. “You would?”

“Of course,” he tells her. “Wherever I end up, I want you to be comfortable there too, Sylvie.”

As soon as the words are in the air between them she looks as if she’s bursting with happiness. She opens her mouth to answer him but Herrmann’s warning causes her face to fall in a matter of milliseconds.

“Heads up, it’s the Riddler.”

They all glance up to see Riddle walking into the house. Matt instinctively puts himself between Sylvie and Chief Riddle as his eyes fall on her, a look of scorn twisting his very punchable face. He feels Sylvie tense next to him but the expression on her face never flinches. She stares him down with graceful straightened posture, appearing as regal and confident as a queen. If he could he’d kiss her right there in the middle of the common room.

Riddle scoffs and walks away from them heading toward Boden’s office -- Matt’s livid stare tracking his every movement. He’s the reason Sylvie ended up in the emergency room just over three months ago and the reason she spent so much time in close quarters with that bastard Early. There’s not much Matt wouldn’t do for a few minutes alone with Riddle to give him a piece of his mind -- or a fist to the fucking face. He doesn’t give a damn what color the man’s shirt is.

“You okay?” He asks Brett as soon as Riddle is gone.

“I’m fine,” she replies through a clenched jaw. “I would like to talk in your quarters, though.”

“Now?” He asks.

She nods and walks off in the direction of the bunkroom, leaving him to follow her a few paces behind.

As they enter the bunkroom, snoring can be heard and Sylvie smirks at the sight of Orlovsky crashing on Herrmann’s bunk with an IV bag hung off the wall shelf above the bed.

“That’s your solution for the pastor replacement, huh?” She asks.

“It’ll be fine,” Matt assures her with a grin. “Don’t worry about it.”

They step inside his quarters and he shuts and locks the door behind them and closes the blinds once the door is locked.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks again.

She nods and wraps her arms around his middle, burying her head in the crook of his neck. “I’m fine. Just need a quick cuddle.”

He chuckles softly and kisses the top of her head. “Happy to volunteer,” he replies, slipping his arms around her.

“I would like to go with you, by the way,” she says, quietly. “You know, to look at those listings?”

“Good,” he replies as he releases a relieved exhale.

“But I want you to pick a place _you_ like. Not a place I like,” she clarifies. “You’re spending your money. Whatever place you choose should reflect _you_. Not me.”

“What if someday down the road...or a handful of months from now, I want it to reflect both of us?” He asks, cautiously.

“If that someday comes—“

“When. Not if.”

She rolls her eyes but laughs quietly. “ _When_ that someday comes, I’ll love whatever place you choose. All I ask is that you let me have the option to redecorate.”

“Granted,” he promises. “Whatever you want.”

She narrows her eyes warily. “Whatever I want? You sure you don’t want to add some exceptions to that promise?”

He shakes his head with a wide smile. “No, I trust you. You’re too considerate to do something like turn my house into a frilly pink powder puff.”

Her eyebrows lift with a knowing smirk on her lips. “You just said house. I take it that means condos and townhomes are out?”

“I’m looking for something with a little more room to grow,” he confirms with a nod.

Her smirk transforms into a smile as she slides her hands up his arms and over his shoulders until they rest on the nape of his neck. “That sounds wonderful and full of possibilities.”

“Yeah?” He asks, pulling her closer. “And if I also wanted a house that’s a bit of a fixer upper?”

“Then I’d say you can make it everything you’ve ever wanted and I’ll be more than happy to help,” Sylvie tells him immediately.

“I really like that answer,” Matt replies, unable to hold back his own smile.

“Well, I really like you so I guess we’re even.”

He chuckles and then dips his head to close the distance between them, kissing her soundly and crushing her against his chest. She gives as good as she gets as they trade insistent open mouthed kisses. Matt walks her back toward the cot but before he can lay her across it she gently pushes them apart.

“Matt,” she says with an admonishing look and a contradicting quiet giggle. “Not here.”

“Why not?” He asks, a roguish smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth.

“Because we’re at work _and_ I still have a huge to-do list of wedding tasks and very little time to do them,” she reminds him. “Tomorrow, as soon as we’re out of here, I promise you can have your way with me.”

One eyebrow quirks in intrigue at that promise and the smirk stays firm on his face. He nods and steps away from her. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“Please do,” she replies, grinning wickedly at him. “Okay, I am going to go finish the flowers and then check in with Squad on the music.”

“I don’t know why you’re letting them be in charge of the music when _you_ could just sing the way you did in Fowlerton at that combined bachelor-bachelorette—“

“Drunk karaoke does not a performance make, Matt,” Sylvie interrupts him, seeming terrified. “And the only reason I was able to do that without freaking out was because I’d had several shots at that point. No way I’m singing stone cold sober in front of strangers and risk ruining someone’s last shot at a wedding ceremony.”

“ _No way_ you’d ruin anything,” he encourages. “Your voice is beautiful. And if our only other option is Capp—“

She groans but concedes his point with a nod. “Fine, if push comes to shove and it’s either me or Capp then I’ll do it, but _only_ then! Got it?”

He bites back a laugh at her adorable nervous expression so he can manage a serious reply. “Got it.”

“God, I hope Severide comes through," she says as she walks away.

Not to root against her, but Matt hopes he doesn’t. He loves listening to Sylvie sing. In the car, around the apartment, sometimes in the shower. It doesn’t matter where, he simply adores her voice and doesn’t understand why she insists on hiding it.

Regardless, Mouch plays the guitar rather well so Casey will have him on stand-by for accompaniment.

Not much longer now till the end of shift and some much earned alone time with Sylvie. His laptop pings from where it’s charging on his desk and he opens his email to find suggestions from his realtor of days and times to see the listings. Now he can add syncing up their schedules to the list of things waiting for him at the end of their shift.

Maybe she’s not moving in with him just yet, but a future with Sylvie is coming and _when_ it does he wants to be ready.


	2. 4x07, part one: I'm Not Mad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt takes a big step forward and follows it with a big risk, but will it payoff?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I’m splitting 4x07 into two parts. This is part one. I always hated that 4x06 ended with Mouch alone at that Rush concert so for purely selfish reasons I used my alternate universe to change that. You’ll see it mentioned here but that’s all of 4x06 you’re gonna get.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this half of this one shot! I haven’t started part two yet but I already have it plotted out so hopefully I can find time to get it written out soon!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo
> 
> PS - I’m increasing the rating with this chapter just in case. It doesn’t go full smut but it comes pretty close, lol.
> 
> ******

“I’ll leave you two to look around.”

“Thank you,” Sylvie tells his realtor before she nods and walks out onto the back brick patio -- if you can call it that. 

The bricks are old and coming loose and the spots where they’ve fallen out completely have been filled with concrete. It’s got a patchwork look to it that is very unappealing, but Matt could fix that or replace it completely. The house itself is old and dated and, quite honestly, falling apart as well, but the bones are solid and that’s the most important thing. As long as the bones are good he can shape the rest however he wants.

It would take a while just to get it up to code and that’s bare minimum. Getting it up to code is the least amount of work he can do and Casey never does a job halfway. Another contractor might be satisfied with _code_ but Casey isn’t and never has been. Getting this house move in ready would take a few months. It’s a _huge_ job.

“So,” Sylvie asks, looping one arm through his and motioning around the dining room area with her free hand. “What do you think of this one?”

He grins and leans toward her to whisper, not wanting to give himself away to Pam, the realtor. “I love it. I think it’s my favorite of the five.”

Sylvie chuckles and nods, as if she expected him to say those words exactly. “I figured as much.”

“But this would put me staying at Severide’s for several more months and might delay Shay’s fostering plans,” he admits with a sigh. “I need to talk to them before I make an offer.”

“I don’t think they’ll have a problem with it,” Sylvie tells him, with a thoughtful expression. “If you love it then you shouldn’t miss out. Especially considering the price. This place is so cheap that you wouldn't have to borrow too terribly much for the renovations.”

“I’m still going to talk to them about it first,” he tells her. “I don’t want to assume anything.”

“Understandable,” she replies, grinning fondly at him and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “And I love you for it. Just like I loved watching you geek out over Rush last night.”

“I’m glad Mouch talked us into staying. Those behind the stage seats seemed lame but man when Bob came over told us he gave us the wrong tickets...the worst concert ever suddenly became the best concert ever,” he says, smiling excitedly as he remembers the thump of the drums and the screams of the crowd.

“Next time you see my dad tell him you met Rush. He’ll freak out,” Sylvie tells him, amusement shining in her eyes. “He could never get my brother into them. It’s been one of his biggest disappointments.”

He wraps an arm around her waist and walks her over to the avocado and orange decorated kitchen. “Clearly no one’s touched this kitchen since the 70s.”

“But at least it’s spacious.” Sylvie steps away from him and runs a hand over the olive colored formica that covers the kitchen island. “The stove and the oven being installed in the island gives you lots of counter space. Which is nice for meal prep. And the extra hand washing sink is useful. This is clearly a kitchen built to be practical. The cabinet doors are terrible though and half the hardware is missing.”

“Majority of that is an easy fix,” he says, stepping up next to her and glancing around the room. “The most expensive things here are gonna be new appliances and replacing the countertops. Which is why the property is priced so low to begin with.”

“You know what I’m surprised that I _do_ like?” She asks, wrapping her arms around him and turning them to face the living room.

The entire first floor is an open concept so you can see in every room from the kitchen. “What’s that?”

“The sunken living room,” she answers. “It feels very... _cool_. Retro in a trendy way. Once you replace the hideous brown carpet at least.”

“I’m thinking more hardwood than carpet, but you’re right. It’s different. I like it,” Matt agrees.

“Oh! Hardwood would be beautiful!”

His eyes drift to her face and he gives himself a moment to take her in. He can actually see her wheels turning as she imagines what this house could be and it floors him for a few minutes. She sees as much potential in the bones of this house as he does. Seeing beyond the cosmetic isn’t easy for most people and he loves that she understands. She doesn’t immediately dismiss this house because it needs work. Like him, she sees an investment worth making.

“Come on,” he says, taking her hand and tugging her toward the stairs. “Let’s go check out the second floor.”

They meander through the second floor and the half finished basement before Matt tells Pam he’ll call her once he’s done considering his options. 

They get back to find Shay and Severide at home, surfing channels on the television but never landing on anything long enough to see if they’d enjoy it. They ask how it went and Matt tells them everything about the house. He’s excited so he talks for longer than he originally intended. 

“Sounds like a lengthy project,” Severide says with a knowing grin.

“It is,” Matt admits. “But if you guys don’t mind me staying here for several more months I’d...I’d like to make an offer. I know you guys have plans for when I move out so I--”

“Stop right there,” Shay says with a flat palm held up at him and a roll of her eyes. “My plans can wait a little while longer. You’re not an inconvenience, Casey. Since I know that’s where this discussion is going. We enjoy having you here. Stay as long as you need.”

Severide nods his agreement. “You deserve to get a place you really love, man. If this place is it then go for it.”

So, he does. He puts in an offer as soon as they’re done talking and now he’s waiting for a response. He offered less than the asking price but he also pointed out to Pam several issues that knock down the property value. If any other potential buyer notices those things then his offer will likely be the best one they ever get. Sylvie was right. When it comes to house hunting it pays to be a contractor.

The next day, on shift, they get a crazy call about a guy who was flung through a window and his lower half was completely impaled on the glass. Shockingly, he survived. In the process of clearing the scene, though, Borelli left his traffic post and Matt ended up hit by a car. He’s fine and no one other than Borelli noticed, but it was annoying as hell.

When they get back to the house he heads for the coffee pot. On his way there, he notices Kidd posting the sign for the CFD gala’s silent auction which reminds him...he never technically asked Sylvie to be his date. Is he supposed to, now that they’re a couple? Or is that just implied in the couple status? Sylvie and Shay are on their way back from Med after dropping off the accident victim, he’ll just ask her when she gets back.

It doesn’t take Sylvie long to come find him once Ambo is back at the house. She rushes into his quarters and joins him in sitting on his cot, her at the foot of the bed and him at the head of it. Her face is a mixture of concerned and annoyed.

“You got hit by a car?” She asks loudly. “And you didn’t tell me?”

 _Borelli_. He’s going to have a word with his candidate later.

“It wasn’t a big deal. It didn’t leave me with a single scratch,” he assures her. “I’m fine. And I didn’t tell you because we were both working and you had a guy impaled by a window on your gurney.”

“Where were you hit?” She asks.

“Sylvie, _I’m fine_. The car was barely moving. I’ve just got a bruise on my side. That’s all.”

Her eyes narrow on him but she concedes, deciding to trust his judgment. “Fine, but promise you’ll let me know if the pain gets worse?”

He nods and smiles warmly at her. “You’ll be the very first person I tell.”

“I better be,” she warns.

He reaches out and takes her hand, squeezing it gently. “So…”

“So?” She asks.

“The CFD Gala is this weekend and I realized I never technically asked you to be my date.”

She chuckles softly and meets his eyes with a fond glance. “No, you didn’t, but I assumed that was the plan.”

“You assumed correctly,” he replies, closing the distance between them to give her a chaste kiss. “Pick you up at 8?”

“Sounds perfect,” she says enthusiastically. “I’ve got a new dress that I think you’re going to _love_.”

“New dress?” He asks, feeling the blood heating in his veins. “What kind of new dress?”

“Uh uh, nope. It’s a surprise,” she admonishes as she stands from the bed. “I should get back to work. Shay’s waiting on me to start inventory.” She gives him one last kiss and a wink before walking away.

He spends the rest of shift trying to envision Sylvie’s dress. It preoccupies his mind far more often than it should but damn she’s gorgeous. So gorgeous that he’d be entranced with her no matter what she wore. Hell, she’d be sexy in a black garbage bag as far as he’s concerned.

After shift, Matt takes Sylvie out for breakfast and then drops her off at her apartment. He heads out to check on one indoor renovation and then spends the rest of the day trying to finish up an outdoor deck he’s building for a client. Around lunchtime he gets a phone call from Pam.

“Congratulations!” she exclaims. “It’s all yours!”

“Are you serious?” He asks with a grin.

“Completely serious. You’ll have the final closing in 30 days and then you’ll get the keys and can get to work making that house amazing.”

Pam is a client. He remodeled her basement into a studio apartment last year. She told him from the beginning he should have been looking for a fixer upper. She was right.

“This is great news, Pam! Thank you.”

“I can’t wait to see what you turn that wood panel walled monstrosity into before it’s all said and done. Send me progress updates, will you?”

He agrees to keep her up to date on his progress and then calls Sylvie as soon as he and Pam hang up.

“We’re going out tonight,” He tells her as he packs up his tools so he can break for lunch.

“We are?”

“Steak dinner on me.”

“Wow, what’s the occasion?”

“They accepted my offer on the house.”

“Matt! That’s amazing! Congratulations! Oh! You are going to have so much fun making that place your dream home! I’m so excited for you!”

He told her he’d pick her up at six and then went back to focusing on his construction gigs, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her words all day long. His _dream_ home. What did his dream home even look like? He had a lot of decisions to make but he knew one thing for certain. His dream home included Sylvie Brett.

He knew they likely weren’t ready to move in together just yet, but he had a month before he got the keys to the house and at least two months before the house was up to code enough for even one person to live in, and longer still before it was truly move-in ready. It would take at least six months, possibly longer depending on any complications he might uncover as he works. He and Sylvie would be at the nine month mark by that point.

Nine months isn’t too soon. It’s actually perfectly situated between six months and a year. Should he bring that up now? Maybe give her time to start considering it? He’s been honest with her about his hopes and his dreams so far. He sees no reason to stop now. He can’t see Sylvie using it against him or laughing in his face. She’s never once been meanspirited or cruel. He trusts her with his thoughts and plans. Even the far fetched ones.

He picks her up exactly on time. He’s nervous for the first time in months. The worst she can say is no and he’d understand if she did. Six months seems like a long ways down the road. It doesn’t mean she won’t change her mind or find her way to the place he’s in right now. A no doesn’t mean it’s over. He knows that, but his nerves don’t.

Before they leave, she pulls him into her apartment. Stella’s out. They have her apartment to themselves. The door shuts behind them and she shoves him down on the couch. He chuckles as she straddles his lap.

“Well, hey to you too,” he quips, noticing her lips are strangely absent of any lipstick.

“Hi, now shut up and kiss me. I left my lipstick for last so I wouldn’t leave any stain on your lips,” she tells him with a sharp grin. 

“How thoughtful,” he says with a dry smirk. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. Kiss me, please,” she requests eagerly.

He arches up until their lips meet but he keeps the kiss slow and tender, hands framing both sides of her face. She whimpers when his tongue slides across her bottom lip and sinks into him, letting her mouth fall open. He lets his nerves fade away while he chases the taste of her. He could spend all night just kissing her. As far as he’s concerned they could take up permanent residence on her couch and make out for the rest of their lives. He’d be fine with that.

He brushes her hair out of her face and off her shoulders, sweeping it to one side. Her hands drift down his abdomen, caressing his chest over his clothes. She sucks his bottom lip between hers and nips gently. His stomach flutters and flips like the first time he ever climbed to the top of the aerial. He’s a bumbling candidate all over again thanks to her. He groans and lays her back onto the couch, settling himself on top of her while being careful not to crush her.

He lets go of her face to find her legs. His fingers skim the outside of her thighs until they can wrap around the bottom hem of her black dress. He slides it up as his hands trail over her skin, bunching it at her hips. His fingers try to grasp at her usual pair of lacy underwear but find nothing. Not a single scrap of fabric. He jerks out of the kiss and rests his brow against hers with a flushed face.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he says, feeling his blood boil in his veins. Jesus, that’s incredibly hot.

“This dress is tight,” she explains as if it’s no big deal. “Underwear leaves lines and I hate thongs--”

He cuts her off with an aggressive kiss, plundering her mouth forcefully. Her muscles turn soft and slack underneath him and she lets him take charge. He removes his lips from hers to leave a path of open wet kisses from the corner of her mouth to the hinge of her jaw. He stops when his lips land on the shell of her ear.

“You were gonna sit across from me at dinner knowing you weren’t wearing any underwear beneath this dress?” He asks. His voice sounds rough and gravelly. He’s never heard himself sound like this -- driven half mad with want and need.

“Yes,” she answers breathlessly.

“Fuck,” he replies with a moan. “Yeah, I’ll have to buy you a steak dinner some other night. We’re not making it out tonight.”

A hoarse chuckle fills the air around him before she replies. “Fine by me. You’re the one celebrating. We can celebrate however you want.”

He slowly grinds himself against her and watches her cheeks redden and her head fall back onto the couch cushions. She whimpers through his name and then sucks in a breath when his thumb brushes over her clit. He smirks and attaches his lips to her neck, just over her pulse point. Her skin is already heated and covered in goosebumps. He kisses, licks, bites and sucks for several lingering moments while continuing to move against her until she’s writhing underneath him and panting in anticipation.

Her hands suddenly reach for his belt and he swiftly wraps his fingers around one of her wrists. 

“Couch or bed?” He rasps.

“Bed,” she answers in a deep sultry tone. “God, Matt, take me to bed.”

“Copy that,” he responds, banding one arm around her back and cradling her ass with the other one.

Her arms and legs tighten around him as he stands from the couch, lifting her with him. This night isn’t turning out how he planned, but then having Sylvie all to himself is much better than sharing her with a restaurant full of strangers. Getting twisted up in her bed sheets and ordering delivery after is a superior date night to the one he originally had in mind.

That’s exactly what they do.

After they’re sweaty and spent and extremely satisfied, Sylvie comes back from the bathroom browsing a food delivery app on her phone. “What restorative post-sex meal are we in the mood for tonight?”

“Go for max carbs,” Matt advises with a teasing smirk. “Italian? Pasta and bread.”

Sylvie laughs and nods. “Carbo loading it is. The usual?”

When she slips back into bed and under the covers his arms immediately wrap around her, pulling her back to his front. He presses a kiss to her bare shoulder before nodding. “The usual sounds good.”

He watches over her shoulder as she taps and swipes until a confirmation screen lights up her phone.

“Okay,” she says. “We’ve got about 45 minutes until we have to be at least partially dressed.”

He chuckles with his lips still pressed against her smooth skin. “Good to know.”

She rolls over so they’re lying chest to chest and tenderly caresses a hand over his cheek. “So, on a scale of one to ten, how excited are you about your new house?”

A wide smile stretches across his face as he answers her. “An eleven.”

“Wow! An eleven! That’s rare for you!” She teases.

A loud laugh escapes him as he shakes his head at her. “I wanna argue with that but it’s hard to argue with facts.”

“It amazes me that you think I’m funny,” she says with a soft chuckle as she snuggles into him. “I don’t think anyone has ever truly found me funny before.”

He kisses the top of her head and holds her tighter. It’s little moments like this that remind him her exes are all mostly jackasses and idiots. “Maybe those people just didn’t get you. Not like I do, anyway.”

“Well, now that is most definitely true. You see me more clearly than anyone ever has before, Matt Casey. Thank you for that.” She tilts her head up from where it was nestled into his neck and presses a lingering kiss to his lips.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” he tells her as he gently tucks a loose blonde wave behind her ear. “You do the same thing for me. It’s an equal trade. Trust me.”

They trade loving giddy stares for a beat before she sighs happily and tucks her head back into his neck. “Okay, tell me about your plans for the house. I know you have some already and I am _dying_ to hear them!”

So far the only plan he has is asking her to move into it with him. He swallows nervously, deciding now is as good a time as any.

“Well, truthfully, I only have one thing in mind right now,” he confesses.

“What’s that?” She asks.

“You, moving in there with me.”

Her finger that’s been tracing idle circles on his arm freezes and her entire body goes rigid in his arms. He’s fairly certain that’s not a _good_ sign. 

“Moving in? Me?” She asks, sounding meek and disbelieving.

“Eventually, yeah, when it’s finished,” he clarifies, running a soothing hand over her back. “Based on what we’ve seen that’s going to take several months, six at least. I’m not asking you to move in as soon as I get the keys, but I’m hoping you’ll want to when it’s all said and done.”

“I--I don’t know, Matt,” she stammers, avoiding his eyes. “We’re deciding this a little soon, aren’t we?”

“We don’t have to decide anything,” he says, urgently. Clearly bringing this up was a mistake. Now to course-correct. “Not now. Sylvie, there’s no pressure here. It was just a thought -- a hope. I get that it’s soon. I really do.”

She bites her bottom lip and drags her conflicted gaze up to meet his. “It’s not that I don’t--” she cuts herself off and takes a deep calming breath. “I love you, Matt, and I do want a future with you but I think I moved too fast with Pete and then with Harrison...well, everything was decided for me and Harrison before we even went on our first date. I--I don’t want to make the same mistakes I’ve always made. I mean, there’s no reason to rush, is there?”

He can feel the stress rolling over her and mentally curses himself for being the cause of it. “Of course not,” he says, reassuringly. “No rush at all. You can take all the time you need to think about it. Like I said, the job hasn’t even started yet so I’m talking about something that’s several _months_ down the road. I have no expectations, okay? We can take this at whatever pace you want.”

She nods and then smooths her fingers over his cheek. “You know this isn’t about you, don’t you? I don’t want you thinking my reaction is about _you_. It’s not. You’re just as wonderful as you’ve always been. This...this is all me. You believe that, right?”

He turns his head and presses his lips to her fingers before bringing his eyes back to her watery crystal blue ones. “I believe you.”

“You’re not mad, are you?” She asks, fearfully.

Not for the first time, he remembers everything he’s heard about Harrison and wants to punch that douchebag in the face. He has no doubt this panic she’s feeling is more because of Harrison than Pete.

“No,” he answers firmly. “I’m not mad. You feel how you feel. I would rather you be honest with me about that every time. Even if you think it’s something I might not want to hear. You got that? I want to know everything that goes on in your head, Sylvie Brett. Even--or should I say _especially_?--when it’s messy.”

She blinks back the tears he sees in her eyes and nods, smiling fondly at him. “Thank you. That sentiment is definitely mutual, Matt Casey.” Her hand slips back into his hair and caresses a repetitive trail from front to back. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Always.”

She nods and then pulls his lips to meet hers, murmuring her reply just before they kiss. “Always.”

That conversation didn’t exactly go how he wanted it to, but he’s not taking it personally. He knew there was a chance she’d think it was too soon. But there’s plenty of time between now and then. They simply need to take it one step at a time. While he’s not entirely sure what’s behind Sylvie’s fear when it comes to _him_ , he does know that she’s been seriously hurt in the past. He has too in a different way. Their hurts aren’t the same, but he understands how difficult it is for those old scars to heal.

If she needs more time then he has plenty of it to give.

He knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’s worth all the time in the world.

So...he can wait. He’ll _gladly_ wait.


	3. 4x07, part two: All Mixed Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvie contemplates her relationship with Matt while dealing with an intense call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Here is part 2 of 4x07 from Sylvie’s point of view! You get a little more Shay and Stella in here. I missed writing them!
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo
> 
> ******

What is wrong with her? Matt Casey, the man of her dreams who she never thought would actually come along, asked her to move in with him and she said ‘I don’t know’? And it’s not even like he was asking her to move in _now_. At least six months down the road, he said. That’s in a whole new calendar year. There’s plenty of time for her to adjust to the idea.

But maybe…

Maybe _that_ was the issue.

Harrison had their entire lives planned out. She pushed back against his plan after high school by opting to go to college. He hadn’t liked that which is why they’d been on again and off again those four years. She always seemed to find her way back to him, though, and eventually trying to live her life the way she wanted was more trouble than it was worth and she caved to his plan.

Only for him to back out before the wedding.

She made her life all about his life and then he left her. Not only that, but he led her to believe she couldn’t live life without him so when she was faced with doing just that she spent the first few days after he left in a very dark place. Looking back, she sees the emotional abuse and manipulation for what it was but at the time she truly believed it was love.

The realization that he’d belittled her so she’d be dependent on him had been a hard one to come to.

So, while hearing Matt talk about their future in the long term is thrilling, it’s also terrifying. 

She knows Matt isn’t Harrison. He has never once cut her down or made her feel weak. If anything he’s consistently done the opposite. He makes her better, stronger, more confident. But fitting her life to someone else’s feels like a slippery slope. She’s afraid of letting herself get lost in someone else again.

In hindsight, she did that with Pete. She wanted things to work with a nice guy so badly that she ignored her feelings for Matt and the niggling doubt that something with their chemistry wasn’t _quite_ right. She convinced herself she loved Pete, but really she simply respected and admired him a great deal. She was _amazed_ a genuinely caring guy like him could want her.

She doesn’t regret anything with Pete. He was good for her. But what she felt for him pales in comparison to what she feels for Matt.

If she let herself get lost in Harrison and Pete when she felt a fraction for them of what she feels for Matt then how much of herself is she going to let disappear for Matt Casey — Wonderful, loyal, selfless Matt Casey who she loves with everything she has?

She’s doubting herself, not Matt. She wants to get this right and be truly happy. He doesn’t need her baggage dragging them down and right now her baggage is leaving her head a swirling jumbled mess of confusion.

“Earth to Farmgirl? You okay over there?”

Sylvie shakes herself back to present and meets Shay’s eyes as they wheel their now empty gurney back to the ambo. “Sorry. Just…a bit preoccupied.”

“Something happen with Casey?” Shay asks in concern.

“Yes? I mean not really but sort of?” She replies rubbing a hand across the stress induced wrinkles on her forehead. “Matt’s great. That hasn’t changed, but...I think I might be self sabotaging or something.” She huffs and shakes her head at herself. “I don’t know. I’m all mixed up.”

They load up the gurney and shut the back doors. When they do Shay leans against them and narrows her eyes on Sylvie. “Start from the beginning. What happened?”

“Well, you know, his offer was accepted on the house.”

Shay nods.

“And then he sort of asked me to move in with him once the house is finished.”

Her partner grins and pushes off the rig with excitement in her eyes. She opens her mouth to speak but Sylvie holds up one finger to stop her.

“But I told him I needed to think about it. That I don’t want to rush.”

Leslie doesn’t look entirely surprised. She nods and crosses her arms over her chest. “Makes sense.”

“It does?” Sylvie asks with a doubtful furrow of her brow. “I mean we spend most nights sleeping in the same bed so how is this any different? And I love Matt. I trust him completely. Yet somehow I don’t trust him enough to live with him? That all seems contradictory, doesn’t it?”

“It makes sense because when you live together your space becomes his space and his space becomes yours. You blend your life and his. And from what I know of you, the last time you did that the relationship you were in wasn’t exactly healthy. Anyone would be hesitant in your situation. Hell, I’ve _been_ in your situation. I built a life with someone and they ditched me, twice. And sometimes I find myself waiting for Allison to ghost me, like it’s inevitable. She’s not Clarice. Not even close, but those old self deprecating instincts stick with us — whether we want them to or not. So, I get it. It’s self preservation. Anyone else would do the same,” Shay assures her. “The important thing is, you see it for what it is. Now, you figure out how you deal with it. Come on, I’ll buy you a donut for the stress.”

Sylvie laughs quietly and nods. “And a hazelnut latte?”

“You got it, Partner.”

They load up in the rig and as they pull up outside the donut shop, Leslie turns in her seat to face her. “What do you normally do when something scares you?”

“I used to hide from it,” she admits. “When I was with Harrison. It was just...easier that way.”

“And after Harrison?”

“I decided life was too short to live it in fear so I try not to let it control me. I face it.”

“So, what’s different about this? Why can’t you face this the same way?” Leslie asks with a warm knowing smile.

She sighs, the answer coming to her immediately. “Because it’s _Matt_ and I don’t want to screw this up or lose him. And I’m worried this might be the one time where facing my fears backfires. It’s too big of a risk.”

“Everything’s a risk, Brett. Hell, showing up to work every morning is a bit like playing Russian Roulette. You never know what sort of calls you’ll get any given day. But the bigger the risk, the greater the possibility of reward. Sometimes diving in is the only way to find out for sure,” Shay says, cutting the engine. “Just like you did when you packed up and moved here. You jumped into the deep end and figured out how to keep your head above water. You can do that again if you really want to and _this time_ you’d have Casey to lean on if you ever get tired of treading water.”

“Maybe. I guess. I don’t know.”

“Just...food for thought. Personally, I think you’re a hell of a lot stronger than you think you are, but you have to see that for yourself. It’s not up to me.” Shay reaches over and squeezes Sylvie’s hand with a wink. “Okay, so, should we be nice and bring back a couple dozen donuts for the house or be mean and miserly and hog the glazed goodness for ourselves?”

They decide to be nice and bring 51 a couple of boxes of donuts. They’re greeted with a hero's welcome when they walk in with two pink boxes and are immediately swarmed by firefighters.

“Back off, you buzzards!” Shay yells, turning away from them with the boxes. “Make room for me to put them on the counter or I am taking them back to the ambo and Brett and I will hoard them all day long!”

Sylvie laughs loudly as they all collectively take two steps back and leave a path from Shay to the counter.

As Shay walks the boxes to the counter, Sylvie feels a hand on the small of her back and turns to find Matt. His smile is warm and affectionate. There’s no sign that he’s frustrated or disappointed. He looks like his normal sweet self.

“How’d it go?”

“Oh, fine,” she tells him. “Just a guy with a bad reaction to shellfish. Nothing major.” She bites her bottom lip before continuing reluctantly. “Are we okay?”

His brow furrows and his head tilts. “Have I been acting like we’re not?”

“No!” She assures him. “I just...I wanted to make sure you aren’t hurt or upset or—“

He interrupts her with a brief kiss to the top of her head. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not as fragile as your exes.”

Her eyes snap to his face and find a sharp grin stretching across his face.

She snickers and smacks his arm. “Matt!”

“What? It’s true!” He replies with a light chuckle. “You asked me if you could have time and that’s a reasonable demand. It means you want to get this right,” Matt says with patient eyes and a fond smile. “That’s a _good_ thing, Sylvie. For this to work we need to both be on the same page. I’m willing to wait for that. _For you_.”

“God, I love you,” she tells him in a voice heavy with awe.

“I love you too,” he instantly replies.

The bells ring alerting them to a call and they all stop to listen.

_“Truck 81, Squad 3, Ambulance 61. Man in distress, 9178 South Poplar Avenue.”_

They rush off to their rigs, Squad makes it out first and Shay rushes out right behind them.

“Victims unconscious on the roof!” Severide yells to his squad as they park and climb out. Brett is already at the back of the rig unloading the stair chair. Severide takes it from her and hands it to Cruz. “Let’s go.”

Tony is ordered to stay with the rig in case they need him to bring any additional supplies but Cruz, Severide, and Capp accompany Shay and Brett to the roof.

There’s an unconscious man with a cable wrapped around his chest, constricting his abdomen and keeping him from breathing. Severide instructs Capp to cut it off of him and follows the cable to the edge of the roof. Sylvie and Shay start to work on assisting the patient’s breathing.

Just as Capp reaches to cut the cord, Severide leans over the edge of the building and then yells, “Hey, hey! Hold it!”

Capp’s knife freezes under the cable, and then they all hear a voice.

“Help! Help me!”

Severide leans into the radio on his shoulder. “Hey, I got a second victim hanging over the back of the building. I need the aerial. Casey, give me an ETA on the truck.”

Casey’s voice crackles over their radios. _“81’s ETA is three minutes. I repeat, 81 is three minutes.”_

“Help me!”

“Be right down!” Severide yells, shaking his head at 81’s delayed ETA.

“His pulse is extremely weak, Severide!” Shay shouts from her position crouched over their patient. “He’s not gonna make it if he doesn’t get air soon!”

“Capp, Cruz,” Severide orders. “Find a place to dig your heels in. I’m anchoring off you two.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Cruz asks, only to be greeted with a silencing glare from his Lieutenant.

“That’s an order,” he insists. “Shay, get ready to cut that cable!”

“I’m with Cruz. Are you crazy?” Leslie asks with a huff.

“Just do it,” Severide says with an affectionate eye roll.

“Of course I’m gonna do it,” Shay tells him as if there was never a question. “I just wanted you to know how insane you sound before I do.”

“Can you save the commentary for later?” He quips, playfully.

Cruz and Capp clip in and find a solid place to hold Severide steady while Kelly clips himself to the other end of the line. 

“Lieutenant, are you sure about this?” Cruz asks.

“Just don’t let go of the rope,” he orders as Cruz ties the rope around the clip attached to himself and Capp. “Ready?”

“Set,” Cruz answers.

Severide slowly repels over the roof and they all hold their breath as they wait to hear his voice over their radios.

_“Victim secure. Cut the cable.”_

Shay cuts the cable and immediately Capp and Cruz begin to slide to the edge of the building. Cruz manages to find a foothold as she and Shay hurry to unwrap the cord and bag their patient. Once the mask is on his face, they start to slip again. Brett hears Cruz shout her name and looks up with a wince.

“A little help here!” He yells.

She doesn’t think, she merely reacts. She grabs Capp from behind and stretches until her foot catches the gutter at the edge of the roof. Cruz’s boot catches it too and that holds them steady just as 81’s sirens can be heard in the distance.

“Hang on, guys!” Severide shouts up at them.

“Any day now!” Cruz yells dryly.

“Ladder’s here!” Severide informs them.

They all grit their teeth and hold on until their arms are sore. Within a few minutes they hear Herrmann’s voice telling them he’s got the victim and Severide on the ladder. All three of them release each other and sag back onto the hot tar roof.

“Jesus, that was a close one,” Cruz exclaims with a relieved sigh.

“Yes, it was,” Sylvie says, catching her breath. “Now help me and Shay get this other guy down the stairs. You owe me.”

They get the stair chair down and the man switched over to a gurney. While they’re loading him into the ambo Matt comes racing toward them.

“All good?” He asks her.

“Your girlfriend’s a badass,” Cruz tells him, slapping his shoulder as he walks past him toward the Squad truck.

“That’s old news, Cruz,” Matt says with a chuckle at him and a proud grin aimed at Sylvie. “You okay?”

She nods confidently and gives him a bright smile. “I’m good. I’ll see you back at the house.”

He nods, waves at Shay, and then heads back to 81.

“You see,” Shay says, swatting at Sylvie’s arm as she climbs in the ambo. “It’s what we talked about earlier. You saw something that scared you, dove right in, and kicked ass. Big risk, big reward, right?”

“Yeah,” Sylvie replies with a wide surprised grin. “I didn’t know I had it in me.”

“I did,” Shay says with a chuckle just before closing one of the back ambo doors.

Sylvie closes the other door and then runs around to the cab, hopping in and taking off toward Med. Shay has a point, Sylvie thinks as she drives. If she can jump toward near certain danger to save her friends without a second thought then what’s stopping her from taking a leap with Matt?

Yes, she’s scared but anything worth having starts as something scary, doesn’t it? Every big jump requires terrifying heights. But even though it’s scary, this jump has one thing her other leaps of faith never did. 

This one comes with a partner. Matt Casey to be exact. Steadfast and true Matt Casey. She knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’ll have her back. All she has to do is let him. 

As soon as they arrive back at the house she heads off in search of Matt. She finds him in Boden’s office so she turns back around and decides to wait for him in his quarters. While she waits, she closes the blinds but leaves the door open and then sits down on the foot of the bed.

Matt walks into the bunkroom a few moments later and brightens the minute his eyes find hers.

“There she is,” he says with a teasing twinkle in his eye as he closes the door behind him. “The paramedic who single handedly saved Squad 3 and their Lieutenant.”

She shakes her head and chuckles at him. “I did barely anything.”

“That’s not the way Cruz and Capp tell it. They say you slid across that roof like John McClane jumping off of Nakatomi Tower.”

He leans over the bed to kiss her quickly while she rolls her eyes.

“What is it with men and _Die Hard_?”

“Are you kidding?” Matt asks, looking equal parts surprised and offended. “It’s _Die Hard_.”

“Right,” she says, grinning in amusement. “Got it. Well, tell them they’re exaggerating but I appreciate it anyway.”

He sits down next to her and then pulls her backward on the cot with him until she’s settled between his legs with her back against his chest. 

“For some reason, I don’t know why,” he says sarcastically as he playfully squeezes her waist. “I feel like it’s more likely that you’re downplaying it than they’re exaggerating.”

“It really wasn’t a big deal. They needed help and I just acted.”

He presses his lips to her temple and rests his proud grin against her skin. “I know you don’t believe me, but that instinct to help people _always_ is what makes you exceptional. Not everyone has that, Sylvie.”

Warmth floods her chest and fills her senses. Love and affection to the brim. All for _him_. He spends so much time building her up and makes sure she knows he sees and appreciates her that she can’t help but love him more and more every day. She wants him _always_ — for the rest of her life. It won’t matter if they move in next year or six months down the road, she knows she’ll still want him.

She shouldn’t let the ghost of Harrison keep her from Casey. He makes her happy and, unlike Harrison, he puts her needs before his own and she does the same for him. They’re truly on equal footing. What she pours into him, he pours right back into her.

It’s nothing like any other relationship she’s had before and she’ll never have another one like it again. He challenges her and makes her better. If she ever started to lose herself, like she’s afraid she might, he’d take her hand and help her find her way home.

He’s her person. He will always be her person.

There’s no reason to be afraid of him, even if the intensity of her feelings still scares her sometimes.

“I love you,” she tells him suddenly, twisting around to meet his eyes.

“I love you too,” he replies, with a slightly furrowed brow. He’s concerned but not overly worried.

“How long did you say the house would take?”

“At least six months — possibly longer depending on how the inspections go in the next few weeks,” he answers. “Why?”

“When it’s finished I want to move in with you,” she declares, sounding as confident as she feels. “I want to live there together.”

He looks elated, his smile widening and his eyes crinkling at the corners. Joy shines all over his face. She watches it dim a little as he actually begins to process the moment. “Are you sure? We don’t have to. I can wait, Sylvie. You can keep thinking about it if you—“

“I don’t need to keep thinking, Matt,” she insists, cutting him off. “I _want_ to move in with you. I want to wake up to you every day and go to sleep with you every night in a place that’s _ours_. I truly do. I only hesitated because I was afraid I’d be so caught up in you that I’d forget what I want and who I am but I’m not afraid of that anymore.”

She turns until she’s face him with her legs crossed on the cot, her bent knees resting on his thighs. She grabs both his hands and interlocks their fingers, holding them in her lap.

“You won’t let me lose who I am because you’re constantly reminding me who I am,” she says, beaming brightly at him. “You see me more clearly than I see myself sometimes. You’d never let me stray from that.”

He leans forward, closing the distance to give her a lingering kiss. When he pulls back he squeezes her hands. “I love this person you are right now, Sylvie Brett. I don’t expect you to stay the same. I want us both to grow and become the best people we can, but I never want you to lose what makes you uniquely _you_. If that ever starts to happen then you can bet your sexy little ass that I will hold you accountable and help you through it, and I hope you’ll do the same for me.”

She blushes at his compliment but can’t suppress her smile. It’s so wide that her cheeks begin to hurt. “I never want you to lose what makes you uniquely you either. I will do everything I can to help you be true to who you are and who you want to be. That’s a solemn promise.”

“Then,” he says, resting his brow against hers. “I guess we’re moving in together. Eventually.”

“Inevitably,” she amends, gently correcting him with an incandescent grin.

The bells go off, indicating a call for ambo only. She snatches a quick kiss from his lips with a teeth exposing smile and an excited flush. “That’s my cue.”

“Be careful,” he replies, squeezing her hands one more time before letting go completely.

Their call wasn’t anything exciting. It matched the rest of their shift. The incident on the roof was the only intense thing to happen all shift. When they leave the firehouse the next morning everyone is abuzz about their plans for the gala. Everyone except Stella, which Sylvie finds strange.

They arrive back at the apartment at the same time. Sylvie decides to ask about it as they walk through the front door.

“What time is Severide picking you up tonight?”

“He isn’t,” she replies, flatly.

“What?” Sylvie asks in surprise. “Why?”

“His dad’s in town and he’s going with him. Apparently, a date would cramp their style,” Stella tells her with a roll of her eyes. “But that’s fine. It’s not like we’ve labeled whatever we are anyway so maybe it’s better that way. I can browse around.”

“Wait,” Sylvie says, carefully grabbing Stella’s arm to keep her from hurrying to her room. “You and Severide aren’t serious?”

“We’ve never talked about it,” she answers with a feigned casual shrug. “So, I guess not.”

She wants to appear as if she doesn’t care but Sylvie can tell she does. “I’m sorry, Stella. Maybe you should try and talk to him tonight? You’ll never know until you ask, right?”

“Maybe,” Kidd says with a doubtful huff. “Or maybe I don’t wanna know. Either way, I’m going to the gala solo tonight and my dress is gonna slay. Kelly Severide, eat your heart out.”

“That’ll teach him,” Sylvie says, with a small knowing smirk. 

Stella may act like she’s unaffected but a person would have to be blind not to see how much she cares about Kelly. And Severide is just as obvious as she is. Their problem is a lack of communication. She’s not sure what Severide’s dad is like, but she wonders if there’s more to Severide not wanting to have a date around his father than Stella realizes.

She gives her roommate a long comforting hug and a kiss on the cheek before she retreats to the bathroom to shower and blow dry her hair. She has an appointment with her hair stylist at five. She’s supposed to show up with clean and straight hair so it can be crafted into some sort of complicated updo Sylvie could never achieve on her own.

She has errands to run until then. Her dress is being altered, as most gowns these days are made for women of statuesque height and Sylvie is still only average height even in three inch heels, so she has to go pick it up. She also hasn’t decided on her accessories yet and still needs to find something appropriate.

She drags Stella along. She doesn’t have shoes and wants to find a pair of earrings. Besides, it’s been a while since they’ve had a day together. Just the two of them.

They spend the whole day shopping and talking and laughing. They get back home around four and Sylvie has just enough time to drop off her purchases before making her appointment. The rest of the evening passes in a blur. The time passes so much faster when you’re on a tight schedule.

Sylvie’s putting the finishing touches on her make up as Stella’s running out the door with a promise to see her there. Matt’s due in a couple of minutes and she _knows_ he’ll be on time. He always is.

She pulls out her coat and lays it on the back of the couch and then goes to her room to grab her impossibly small clutch. She’s got a bigger tote she plans to leave in Matt’s truck to hold most of her things, but a big bag is not appropriate for a formal event. (Another ridiculous constraint only women have to deal with. Men get large pockets and only have to carry a wallet. How much sense does that make?)

Just as she’s coming back into the living room a knock sounds at her door. Eight on the dot. She already knows it’s Matt.

She pulls the door open with an eager smile. “Right on time!”

He gulps and inhales slowly, eyes widening as his gaze scans her from head to toe. His eyes pause over the plunging neckline in the black strapless gown. Matt has always had a preference for her collar bone, shoulders, and neck. She knew strapless was the way to go. But the plunging neckline was for _her_.

She rarely wears anything so revealing in public and it feels...daring. _Powerful_. She likes the confidence it gives her.

Based on Matt’s slack jaw, dark eyes, and light flush he likes it too.

“You look…” He stops and shakes his head with an expression full of awe. “You look breathtaking. Seriously, it’s a good thing we’ll be a room full of paramedics and firemen. You’re gonna cause more than a few cases of heart failure in that dress.”

She laughs and blushes, pulling him in for a quick and chaste kiss (so neither of them are tempted to mess up her hair and make up). “As sweet as that is, I hope that’s not the case. I don’t want to end up working on one of my night’s off.”

She ducks back inside long enough to grab her coat, clutch, and tote and then comes back to Matt at the front door. She stops on her stoop, after locking the door behind her, to take him in. The gray suit brings out his eyes, and the crisp button up and tie have him looking more dapper than she’s ever seen him.

She almost wants to unlock the door, pull him inside, and say to hell with the gala. But she _won’t_. This is a night meant for socializing and mingling with other members of the CFD. Tonight is about their community.

She can ravage Matt Casey afterward.

“You look very handsome,” she tells him as she smooths down the wrinkles in his shirt and straightens his tie. “I like you in gray.”

“Thank you,” he says, filching one more quick kiss before extending his arm out to her. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she replies, looping her arm through his. 

For whatever comes, as long as he’ll stick by her and let her stick by him, she’s ready. They’re a team now and however winding the road ahead them turns out to be, she feels confident they’ll navigate it together.


	4. 4x08: Rescue Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvie gets hit on at an accident scene. How will Matt handle it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Well, I wasn’t planning to write this until after Christmas but I got the inspiration for it this morning so you guys get a little bonus Christmas treat! MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Enjoy my take on 4x08!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo
> 
> ******

It’s the shift after the gala and the shift after Sylvie decided she would move in with him once his house is finished. That’s a long way off from now. He’s only on day five of his 30 day closing, which has to happen before _any_ work can begin. Regardless, the inevitability of sharing a home with Sylvie fuels him through any and all minor frustrations his days bring him. Including not being able to give Sylvie a ride to work this morning.

She left his place early to meet Chili for breakfast before shift. He got the impression that whatever it was Chili needed to talk about was pretty urgent, but he hated not having Brett in his passenger seat.

When he arrives, though, he finds Sylvie’s car already parked outside. Well, now he’s confused. He heads into the house and changes out and then swings by Boden’s office to check in only to find Brett and Chili inside and Boden’s door closed.

He debates turning around and heading to his quarters but just as he starts to leave the meeting seems to wrap up. Sylvie hugs Chili tightly, Boden shakes her hand, and then the door opens.

“Call me if you need to talk, okay?” Sylvie offers as they step outside of the office. “You focus on you and your sister and try not to stress out about us while you’re in Kansas City.”

Chili nods and hugs her one last time before rushing passed Casey with a brusque nod. When Chili’s gone his brow furrows at Sylvie.

“What was that about?” He asks in concern.

Sylvie sighs and nods toward the bunkroom, indicating that he walk with her. “Chili’s twin sister died. An overdose. She’s taking some furlough to go visit with her older sister and help with the arrangements. Chili was helping Shay fill in for Carroll on third shift so until Boden can find another PIC to take her place, he’s asked me to cover. We were just finishing up the details. She’s headed straight for the airport and doesn’t really know how long she’ll be gone.”

“That’s awful,” Matt says sympathetically.

Sylvie nods with a sympathetically stricken face. “Apparently her sister was a CI for Antonio. She gave him a big lead and the reward from it is how she got out of town. Kansas City was supposed to be about her starting over. Chili said they thought she was doing better. I guess it just proves you never really know what a person is struggling with. Everybody’s gotten too good at putting on a brave face, I think. Including myself.”

When they reach the bunkroom, he wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close -- kissing the top of her head. “I’m sure Chili will be okay. She reached out to you first which means she clearly knows you’re there for her if she needs you. She’ll work through it.”

“I hope so,” Sylvie replies, circling her arms around him in return. “So, I guess it turned out for the best that you didn’t drive me because now I have to cover third shift. I’m not a PIC but I’ll have to do.”

He rolls his eyes at her self deprecation and leads her toward his quarters. “You’ll more than ‘do’,” he assures her. “I know you still see yourself as new but you went through more in your first year on the job than most seasoned professionals see in their first _five_ years. You know your stuff. You’ve got this.”

“Thank you,” she says, smiling shyly and kissing him quickly. “I should change and get inventory started. See you at breakfast?”

He nods, grinning as he tucks a fly away blonde tendril behind her ear. “Absolutely.”

Turns out neither of them make it to breakfast. They get a call before then. They’re called to an accident scene and when they arrive they find a vehicle crashed into a parked RV. It’s just 81, 51, Ambo, and the Chief. Squad hadn’t been needed.

Matt gets the low down from the patrolman who’s already on scene.

“Just one in the car. His leg’s trapped.”

“Any injuries in the RV?”

“Nobody in the RV. I was tagging it for impound when this guy comes along and--wham! Lucky he didn’t hit me!”

Matt nods and speaks into his radio immediately. “51, drop a line.” and then turns to his crew. “81, grab extinguishers. This could flash on us.” He heads to the car and the victim with the pinned in leg. “Hey, what’s your name?”

“Austin,” the guy says as he leans his head back and winces in pain.

“Okay, Austin, we’re gonna get you out of there as quick as we can.” He walks away to find his men. “Herrmann, get this door open.”

Herrmann replies and gets to work on Casey’s orders while Matt pops the window on the other side and clears the glass from the frame. He crawls in through the window and settles into the passenger seat to try and pry the steering column off of Austin’s leg. Once Herrmann has the door open, Sylvie replaces him to treat Austin.

“How’s he doing?” Shay shouts.

“He’s alert,” Sylvie starts. “Laceration to the face. Left leg is pinned.” 

Matt uses his halligan for leverage and begins to pry the steering wheel up and Sylvie puts a c-collar on the victim, talking to him while they both work. It’s a tactic to keep him calm that she always uses well -- no matter the victim. It’s one of the many reasons she’s meant to do this job.

“How is it you managed to crash into a parked vehicle?” She asks.

“I looked down at the radio to change the station. It was an emergency. They were playing Justin Bieber.”

She chuckles at his joke and begins inspecting the laceration on his head. “Say no more.”

“I knew you’d understand. Your eyes are incredible, by the way.”

Casey freezes his efforts to pry Austin free for a fraction of a second, pausing to glare at him. Is this guy serious? He’s hitting on a paramedic at an accident scene? Nevermind, that this particular medic is Matt’s girlfriend -- _Who_ does that? He has no reason to be jealous. He trusts Sylvie implicitly but he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t feel possessive resentment clawing at his insides.

Sylvie dismisses him with her usual modesty. “I think you must’ve hit your head.”

It’s a way to both brush off his compliment and assess the laceration on his head.

In the next second the car flashes. Matt takes a moment to make sure Sylvie’s backed away a safe distance before responding to the flames himself and getting back to work unpinning Austin. He hears Boden giving directions over the radio.

_“Knock down those flames, 51.”_

Boden sends Kidd around to give Casey her turn out coat and cover the victim, which he promptly does before shouting through the open door. “Herrmann, need a backboard!”

“Got it!”

Casey’s got the halligan wedged under the steering column again and uses every bit of muscle he has to pry it up and away from Austin’s leg. By the time they get back with the backboard Austin is free and the others are pulling him out of the open door. Matt looks over at Otis through the passenger side window.

“Get me out of here, Otis. It’s gonna go.”

Otis pops the door open and they both jump away from the vehicle just as the interior is engulfed in flames. He catches Sylvie’s gaze as Austin is loaded on the gurney and sees her noticeable relieved sigh. He grins reassuringly and nods. He’s fine. She doesn’t need to worry about him.

“Fire got in the RV,” Boden says. “Anyone inside?”

“It’s abandoned, Chief.”

“Did _you_ verify that?”

No, he didn’t and that was a mistake. He grabs Herrmann and they both run toward the RV to make sure there’s not a victim they missed. He shouldn’t have taken that patrol cop at his word. He should have inspected the vehicle for himself. Mouch and Borelli bring the hose around to the door as Herrmann tries to get in. It’s locked and the door won’t open but Herrmann peers in the window.

“I think there’s somebody inside, a kid or something!”

And now this has just become ten times more urgent. _Shit_.

“Mask up, Herrmann!” Casey orders.

They jimmy the door open and Herrmann rushes inside. Just as he’s coming back out with a blanket covered bundle in his arms, Brett rushes over to the scene.

“Hit it, Mouch.”

Mouch and Borelli knock down the flames inside the RV while everyone else focuses on whatever it is that Herrmann is setting down in front of Brett.

“What do we got?” She asks.

“I think it’s a--a robot.”

“A what?” Otis asks.

Herrmann pulls the blanket off of it and then jumps back about three feet. “Oh, sweet fancy moses!”

It’s a turtle. A huge freaking turtle. Who abandons an animal like that in an RV?

“A robot?” Kidd asks Herrmann with a laugh.

“I didn’t know what it was!” Herrmann shouts defensively.

“That’s the biggest turtle I’ve ever seen!” Otis exclaims.

“It’s not a turtle,” Brett informs them. “It’s a tortoise. Must be somebody’s pet.”

They all stare at her for a moment as if she holds the answers to all their questions and Matt can’t help but grin. Of course the farmgirl knows the difference between a turtle and a tortoise.

“I’m gonna go back to the human victim now,” she says, walking away with a shake of her head.

There’s a brief argument on the scene about who takes the tortoise until Boden orders Truck to bring it back to the house. They need to clear the scene. They can figure out what to do about the tortoise later. Only when they arrive back at the house and start calling around it’s clear they’re not going to be rid of him anytime soon. No one will take him. Casey tells Mouch to call Trudy and see if PD can help them locate the owner of the RV. That should take care of it.

Matt is watching the doors that lead out to the app floor for ambo while Cruz’s brother’s friend, Freddie, shows up for his regular visit. Casey listens as they all tease Herrmann for thinking he was rescuing a robot but it only has half of his attention. He’s still bugged by that Austin guy hitting on Sylvie at the scene. He knows he shouldn’t be, but... _what the hell_? Where did that guy get off?

He should probably get used to it though. He knows better than anyone how appealing Sylvie Brett can be. It won’t be the last time she’s hit on by some guy and he _can’t_ turn into that jealous asshole he could sometimes be with Hallie and Gabby. He’s grown up since then. He can handle this like an adult instead of a hot-headed teenager.

As if his thoughts summoned her, she and Shay suddenly appear.

“Brett! You know about these kinds of things,” Herrmann yells. “What do tortoises eat? It seems like we’re gonna have him around a while.”

“What is she, google?” Shay asks him with a stern quirked brow. “Look it up yourself.”

Brett laughs and shakes her head at Shay. “It’s fine. My brother had a tortoise when we were kids. He’s right. I do know about these kinds of things. Produce mostly. Fresh vegetables. Leafy greens, maybe some squash, bell peppers, cauliflower. We’ve gotta gas up in a bit anyway. We can stop by the store on our way back. I’ll pick up some things.”

“You are so much nicer than me,” Shay quips with a teasing smirk.

“How’s the idiot who crashed into a parked vehicle?” Herrmann asks.

“He’s fine,” Shay answers with a dismissive wave. “Totally in love with Brett, but fine. He was like a lovesick puppy. It was painful to watch.”

“He was not.”

“Oh, yes, he was,” Shay insists. “And judging by the murder in Casey’s expression right now I’m guessing he agrees with me.”

What? Him? Oh god, is it that obvious? He thought he was hiding it pretty well, but judging by the knowing smirks being traded around the common room...he was not.

Casey clears his throat and awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sylvie’s eyes meet his and they’re full of sympathy just as the grin on her face is full of amusement. “He was harmless,” Sylvie declares. “Just a bit of a Rescue Crush, that’s all.”

“Yeah, of course,” Matt scoffs. “I’m not worried.”

He isn’t. _Mostly_. “I should get to work on my incident report.” He clears his throat and tries his best to bring back his commanding leader voice. “Mouch, let me know what you find out from Trudy. I’ll be in my quarters if you need me.”

“Copy that,” Mouch replies.

Sylvie wordlessly squeezes his arm with an affectionate smile. He can read what she can’t say out loud in her eyes. _“Relax. I love you.”_

He discreetly reaches out, grabbing her hand and tightening his fingers around hers as he passes her. Giving her his own silent reply. _“I know. I love you too.”_

He retreats to his quarters to focus on his report and let Shay and Sylvie go about their day without having to deal with his strange mood. When he says he trusts Sylvie implicitly, he means it. But he’s a protective hot head with an occasional possessive streak. Meaning, try as he might he’s always going to be one part neanderthal. The trick is not letting that part of him throw the sullen tantrum he so desperately wants to throw right now.

He resurfaces just before lunch, deciding to talk it out with Sylvie. She won’t judge him. He knows she won’t. He finds her and Shay working on inventory and just as he’s about to approach, _Austin_ appears. He walks straight toward her with a bouquet of gerbera daisies. Brett’s favorite flower.

What. The. Hell?

“It’s the miracle worker with the big, blue eyes!” Austin exclaims.

There’s a collective hush over the apparatus floor as all eyes turn toward Casey, anticipating his reaction.

Sylvie smiles politely, but Matt can see the strain in it. “Gerber Daisies. Wow. Thank you. They’re my favorite.”

“I had a feeling,” Austin replies.

“Really? How--how did you--” Sylvie stops and then it seems to dawn on her. “I said something to my partner about it when we wheeled you past the hospital flower shop.”

“You got me.”

Casey rolls his eyes but forces himself to stay back. He’s afraid he might bite this guy’s head off if he lets himself get involved in the conversation.

“Um, Austin, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s your leg?” She asks, trying to steer the conversation back to a work related realm.

“Oh, they did an MRI. Just a muscle tear. It’s no biggie. I just wanted to thank you for taking such good care of me,” he tells her.

Yeah? Did he bring flowers for _him_? Casey was the one who freed his damn leg from the steering wheel and got him out of a flaming vehicle. _Jackass_ , Casey thinks with an audible scoff.

Maybe a much too loud scoff.

Both Austin and Brett turn to look at him.

He clears his throat and pointedly looks away, pretending to be interested in the Squad rig instead of their interaction.

_“Ambulance 61, person collapsed. Sacramento and Walnut.”_

Saved by the bells, Matt thinks.

“Um, I gotta go,” Brett says as she marches off to the ambo. “Thanks for the flowers!”

“I never got your name,” Austin says, following her as she walks away.

She climbs in the rig and shuts the door behind her. She still looks polite but disinterested. Only, Austin hasn’t gotten that particular hint. “Oh, um, Sylvie.”

Matt can’t hear what Austin says in reply, but he can see him leaning in the driver’s side window and handing Sylvie something. He backs away from the rig as Sylvie starts the engine and then drives away. Matt’s hands tighten into fists at his sides and he walks away before he’s left alone on the app floor with this idiot. Best to avoid the temptation to tell this guy where to go. Instead, he growls under his breath and stomps off.

He needs to eat. That’s all this is. It’s not jealousy. It’s _hunger_.

He’s fine. It’s all fine.

Wanting to grab the guy by the shirt collar and throw him out of the house has nothing to do with jealousy.

Yeah, he’s a shit liar. Even to himself.

His footfalls are loud and he knows it. He’s not surprised that it only takes Severide a few seconds to appear at the door of his quarters after he collapses in his desk chair.

“You alright, man?” Kelly asks with a smirk.

“I’m fine,” Casey mutters. “I just need to eat. Who’s on lunch duty?”

“I don’t know. Borelli, I think. But you and I both know food won’t help,” Severide tells him with a light laugh. “What would help is to throw that guy hitting on Brett out on his ass.”

“What the fuck is my problem?” He asks, more himself than Severide. “Sylvie’s the most loyal and trustworthy person on the planet. I’m truly _not_ worried about that asshat.”

“Jealousy isn’t always about trust, Case,” Severide says, leaning against his open doorway. “Besides, this looks more like you being protective than jealous. I can’t blame you for that. Brett’s been through a lot this year -- had to file _two_ sexual harassment complaints. If you put Stella in Brett’s shoes then I’d be fuming too.” He pauses and furrows his brow at the floor, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the linoleum. “Not that I’d have a right to, apparently.”

“What?” Casey asks in concern. “What does that mean?”

He sighs, tiredly. “It’s a thing we’re going through. It’s mostly my fault. You know how my old man blew into town for the gala at the last minute?”

“Yeah,” he replies with a nod. Severide had been unusually stressed about that visit.

“Well, I told Stella I was going to the gala with him instead of her and I don’t think I explained it well. I mean, you know him. Benny is _Benny_. He’s bad enough with you and Shay and you guys are used to him. There was no way I was springing him on Stella with only a couple of days notice. She doesn’t deserve backhanded compliments and ignorant sexist remarks on women in the fire service which you _know_ is how it would have gone,” he explains in a rush.

“Did you tell _her_ that?” Matt asks, already knowing the answer.

“No,” Severide admits with a pained groan. “I just said my dad came into town last minute and he wanted to make it a father and son thing.” He pauses and blows out a frustrated breath. “I probably should have given her a few more details, yeah?”

Matt snorts sarcastically and gives his friend an apologetic smile. “Yeah.”

“I think she’s pissed at me. I haven’t gotten more than a couple of words out of her the last few days and she’s been too busy to...hang out.”

“Hang out,” Matt repeats with a teasing grin. “Is that what people call dating these days?”

“Shut up, man,” Severide says with a laugh at his own expense. “I don’t know what I’m doing, okay? It’s been a while since I’ve actually wanted to be, you know, _serious_ with someone. Do you have any idea how I fix this?”

“In my experience the truth is always best,” Matt advises. “Open up a little. Tell her about Benny. She’ll understand.”

“Opening up about Benny is basically my least favorite thing on the _planet_. You realize that, right?” Kelly asks with a grimace.

Matt gives him a pointed, knowing, glance. “I do. I told Sylvie about _my_ parents. You think that was easy for me? It’s up to you and what you’re comfortable with, but for Stella to understand why you did what you did I think you have to at least give her a little piece of the puzzle.”

He nods as he considers Matt’s words. “Yeah. Makes sense.” He stops and gives Casey an encouraging grin. “And cut yourself some slack, Casey. Okay? You didn’t fly off the handle. You stood back and you let Brett handle it. From where I sit, you took it pretty well. Now, come on, let’s go hassle the candidate about lunch.”

Borelli’s got sandwiches and a salad ready for lunch when they make it to the kitchen. Casey gets a plate for himself and sets one aside for Brett. He chooses to sit at the smaller round table and most people seem to understand why. They leave the seat next to him available, waiting for Brett and Shay to get back from their call.

When they walk through the door, Casey motions for Brett to sit and then retrieves the plate of food he put together for her. She smiles brightly at him as she accepts it from him.

“You’re the best. I need you to know that,” she says before hungrily digging into the side salad. “I’m starving.”

“Hey,” he says, getting her attention. He waits until she swallows and looks over at him curiously to continue. “I’m sorry about before -- on the app floor. I swear I didn’t go out there intending to eavesdrop or anything. I just walked up on you at the same time he did--”

“Matt,” Sylvie says, cutting him off with an understanding smile. “I know that. I was actually impressed you didn’t do anything aside from scoff.” She chuckles and then leans forward to kiss his cheek. They normally keep public displays of affection subtle or minimal in the common room so a kiss to the cheek is a bigger deal than it seems. “I’m proud of you, actually. After what happened with Early and Pridgen I wasn’t sure what to expect the next time some guy came onto me. Not that you needed to, but you just proved exactly how _good_ you are all over again. You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.”

If that’s true then why does he _feel_ like he needs to apologize? “Really?”

“Really,” she assures him. “You put in a lot of effort to control your reaction and it was appreciated. Thank you.”

 _Oh_. Wow. Okay. This has never happened to him before. She’s...validating him? Is that what this is? “You’re welcome?” It comes out as a question instead of a statement.

Sylvie laughs quietly at him and furrows her brow. “Why do you look so confused?”

“I’ve never had this happen to me before,” he admits.

“What do you mean? You’ve never had someone acknowledge your personal growth before?” She asks, looking sweetly bewildered.

“Well, yeah.”

She nods and gives him an earnest glance. “I understand. I’d never had that either until you. You’d better get used to it though, Lieutenant. It’s gonna happen a lot more from now on.”

“Copy that,” he replies with a bright smile. 

Getting used to praise from Sylvie Brett won’t be a problem. If anything it’s going to become a bit of an addiction. Well, if he has to be addicted to something then he’s glad it’s _her_. 


	5. 4x10: Joint Shifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt gives Sylvie a warning about the Herrmann kids and it leads to an interesting discussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Hello! This one is a short one set during 4x10. It’s short because there’s not much I’d change in 4x09 or 4x10 so instead I decided to just add in a small moment. Hopefully you guys like it!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo
> 
> ******

It all started with Riddle leaning on Boden to keep Freddie out of the house. It was an order not a request. Just another way to try and make 51 fit into Riddle’s idea of a perfect house. To make up for it and continue to help Freddie, Herrmann and Otis offered him a job.

No one imagined that offer would end with Herrmann fighting for his life.

Shay had been helping out on a busy night at Molly’s. It was almost closing time and Matt was hanging around his usual barstool with Sylvie leaning into him — his arm around her waist while he nursed a beer. Leslie went to the back to see what was taking so long with Freddie and the low ball glasses.

From that point on, a typical night at Molly’s was flipped on its head.

Shay suddenly screamed for Brett and Otis. Sylvie immediately ran toward her, Otis hot on her heels. Matt followed along too.

“Oh my god, Herrmann!” Brett yelled as they rounded the corner into the kitchen.

A puddle of blood surrounded Herrmann as he laid barely conscious on the kitchen tile.

“Otis!” Leslie exclaimed, snapping him out of his shocked trance. “Call 9-1-1! Partner,” she said turning to a teary eyed Brett. “I need towels. Or cloth napkins. Anything!”

Sylvie took a deep breath and nodded. “How large is the wound? Are we packing it or just applying pressure?”

“Pressure. The wound is too small to pack, but it’s _deep_ ,” Shay advises her. “We’ll alternate until the ambo arrives.”

“What happened?” Matt asked, finally finding his voice amidst the chaos.

Herrmann looked so pale and weak. Jesus Christ. How did this happen?

“Freddie!” Shay yelled angrily. “The kid stabbed him and ran!”

Sylvie gasped from where she was rifling through the kitchen linens for towels and Otis cursed in the middle of giving the operator their location.

As Sylvie switched out with Shay and pressed a folded tea towel to Herrmann’s lower abdomen, Matt fought the urge to hunt down Freddie — instead focusing on how he could help Herrmann.

Which led them to _now_. On shift with Borelli covering for Shay on Ambo while she camped out at the hospital with Cindy. Everyone’s been hovering in the common room since the start of shift, waiting for updates. Cruz is in another room, on the phone with Ruzek. Mouch is sulking on the couch, Trudy having just left. Matt’s not sure what happened there but Trudy looked shocked and disappointed as she walked out the door.

A babysitting chart had been pinned on the board and when Sylvie gets back from inventory she heads straight for it. Casey intercepts her quickly.

“I signed us up for joint shifts,” he tells her. “You’ve never babysat the Herrmann clan before and it is not a job a first timer takes on alone. Trust me.”

“I can handle myself around kids, you know,” Sylvie says, resting her hands on her hips.

“I know,” Matt agrees with an amused smirk. Her stern face shouldn’t amuse him but it does. “I’ve watched you on more calls with kids than I can count. But the Herrmann kids are not normal kids.”

Her expression melts into a mirthful one. “They’re a handful?”

“Handful is an oversimplification. They’re a united force of chaos. I have wanted kids basically my whole adult life and occasionally they even make _me_ doubt whether or not it’s worth it,” he admits, leaning forward to whisper. “Don’t let that get back to Herrmann.”

She grins and wraps her pinky around his. “Pinky promise to keep it to myself.”

He’s so tempted to turn their hands and lace their fingers, but they’re in the common room and it’s probably best to keep it professional. She releases his pinky and nods toward the round table, beckoning him to follow. It’s currently empty and if they huddle together it will give them at least the illusion of privacy. They sit down and she angles herself toward him.

“So, you wanted kids your whole adult life, huh?” She asks, blushing lightly as if she feels her question might be intrusive.

“I’ve told you about my family life growing up,” he answers in a low tone. “Since I was old enough to plan for it, I’ve wanted a chance to get right what my family got wrong. To prove to myself it’s possible to have a family that actually likes each other or, I don’t know, loves unconditionally, I guess. People always want what they never had, right?”

“That’s beautiful, Matt,” she replies, in a voice quiet enough to keep others overhearing. “You deserve that for sure.”

“Thank you,” he says, swallowing thickly. “What about you?”

“Oh, I have always wanted kids. The number of them changes every now and then,” she tells him with a chuckle. “But definitely at least two at some point. I’ve thought about adoption too. Or at least making sure my partner, whoever that ended up being, would be open to it. Being adopted by a loving couple did wonders for me and I’d like to pay it forward.”

Despite how open their position is to the entire room, Casey leans toward her and lays a quick and innocent kiss against the top of her head.

“I love that,” he confesses, meeting her eyes with an earnest expression. “And I love you.”

“Love you too,” she instantly replies.

“It seems we’re on the same page,” Matt tells her, leaning back in his chair and snatching the paper off the table.

She beams brightly at him and nods her agreement. “It seems we are.”

The lightness overtaking Casey’s body is entirely new. Never before has a conversation about the future and kids happened so easily for him. He knows they’ve got several more milestones between now and then but at least he knows starting a family won’t become an issue down the road. He knows with complete certainty that Sylvie wants what he wants.

That knowledge is freeing and leaves him feeling something that’s incomparable to how he’s felt with anyone else.

Not only does Sylvie want the same things he does, but she’s been solidly there for Herrmann and Cindy and everyone else at 51 through all of this. She understands how important his firehouse family is because they’re equally as important to her. Plus, he feels like she’s helping him become the best version of himself he can possibly be. She’s invested in him beyond what he can offer her. She wants to offer him just as much in return. It’s the kind of partnership he’s always longed for.

It’s as if the fractured pieces of his life are finally coming together. He can hardly believe how _good_ things seem to be most days. All thanks to Sylvie Brett.

Now all he has to do is keep it that way and avoid screwing it all up — a task that has proved impossible for him in the past. He wants the two of them to work more than he’s ever wanted anything, and he’s hoping that’s all the motivation he needs.


	6. 4x11, 4x12, 4x13: One of Those Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tragic call gets personal for Matt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Hey guys! So this one covers 4x11, 4x12, and most of 4x13. Next one shot will cover the rest of episode 13. I hope you all enjoy this update!
> 
> CHICAGO FIRE COMES BACK THIS WEEK. Yay!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo
> 
> ******

“Hey,” Sylvie says as she opens her apartment door to reveal Matt. “Where’d you go after shift? Did you have a job to check on?”

She steps back and lets him inside as he answers. “I, um--” he breaks off his sentence and shakes his head. He’s hesitant to speak and, if Sylvie’s not mistaken, looks slightly embarrassed. “I went to Med. To check on that family from our tornado call today?”

“The Hickses?” She asks, knowingly. 

Matt was the first person to come across the son, Lucas, and the one to discover the massive shard of glass in his back. He also spent time calming the boy down while his parents were trapped in their home _and_ was the person who rescued his parents from their collapsing building. She knows what it’s like to be involved in a call that closely. Matt does too even if he gets involved less frequently than she does. However, that nagging voice that tells them to make the save and move on never goes away.

“I shouldn’t have,” he replies with a nod. “They weren’t the only people displaced by the tornado today but I--”

“Stop,” she tells him, shutting the door behind him and then running her hands over his arms. “You don’t need to explain it to me. I get it. You said yourself, sometimes the rescue goes beyond the call. This is one of those times. How are they? What did you find out?”

“Lucas is fine, so is his mother,” Matt answers, grabbing her hands and lacing their fingers together. “But the father…”

She remembers treating him. “The head wound?”

He nods again, barely able to get out the words. Sylvie immediately infers the tragic outcome from the sadness in Matt’s eyes. “Subdural hematoma, Choi said. He died in the OR.”

“Oh god, that poor kid,” Sylvie replies, wrapping her arms around Matt’s shoulders and pulling him close. “The dad was fine when we left the ED. It must not have presented until after we admitted them. I’m so sorry, Matt.”

He returns her embrace and rests his chin on the top of her head, tucking her into him. They stand there for several minutes, Matt silently holding her and breathing deeply. She should invite him to sit, but he’s holding her so tightly that she gets the impression he’d rather not move.

“I wasn’t much older than him when my dad died,” Matt states in a voice that’s barely louder than a whisper. “I know it’s not the same but I know what it’s like to feel like you’ve lost _everything_ at that age. He lost his father _and_ his home. All of his belongings. They’re living in one of the shelters the city set up on a couple of rollaway cots. The kid just lost his dad and he doesn’t even have his own space to go home to — I shouldn’t let it get to me but...I don’t know, Sylvie. I look at him and I see myself 18 years ago. Is that — is that crazy?”

“No, that’s not crazy,” she assures him, lowering her hands to his back and rubbing soothing circles across his shoulder blades. “That’s empathy, Matt, and it’s one of the many reasons you’re so incredibly _good_.”

“I gave Dawn my number in case she and Lucas need anything,” he admits. “Though, I don’t know what they might need that I can provide. I can’t bring the dad back. I can’t give them a home—“

“No, but you can make sure they feel supported and heard,” Sylvie says, craning back from the embrace to meet his eyes. “You’re very good at that, Matt Casey. You listen and you care and, to me, that’s the _most_ important thing.”

He’s quiet for a moment, but the next time he speaks she can read his gratefulness, love, and devotion plain as day as it plays across his face. Casey is not a man who’s known for being easy to read, but _to her_ he is. Sometimes she thinks she understands his emotions better than her own.

“I love you,” he reminds her, pressing his forehead to hers.

“I love you too.”

They’ve exchanged those words more times than she can count by now but every time he says them it feels just as thrilling as the first time. She can hardly believe that this man with all his heart and honor is hers to keep. But he is and she hopes she’ll never have to let him go.

******

After talking to Dawn at the shelter, he knows exactly where he’ll find Lucas. If it were him, which once upon a time it was, he would have run off too and there is only one place he would have run _to_.

His home. The place where his dad lived and left tangible proof of his existence — the only place that could swallow you up under the weight of your memories.

He talks to Lucas and allows himself to open up to him. If Casey’s experiences can help him get through his current losses then he’d share a thousand sad stories. He’d share anything if it meant sparing Lucas the same guilt and pain he deals with on a daily basis.

He can’t make it hurt any less, but he can make it clear that Lucas and his mom aren’t alone. He can do that at the _very_ least.

When Lucas is ready, Matt takes him back to the shelter. While he’s there he learns from Alderman Becks that the shelter might be closing and there’s a fundraiser in the works to try and save it. The Alderman invites Matt to appear at the fundraiser. He tells him it will be good for visibility and for raising additional funds. When Matt says no, Becks tells him to think about it.

But what good would his appearance do? He’s not a white shirt and he’s not a great speaker. Surely, there are better, more _visible_ guests Becks can invite instead.

Matt arrives back at the house to find Kelly sulking at the Squad table. He’s staring at a crossword but isn’t actually trying to work it out. Stella walks by after going through the list of tasks Casey left behind for her and the rest of Truck. Kelly ducks down in his seat and pulls the paper over most of his face.

Casey sighs and then marches over, pulling the paper down and giving his friend a tired glance. “What happened?”

“I think we broke up,” Severide replies with a furrowed brow.

“You think? You mean you don’t know for sure?” Casey asks in confusion.

“Well, she’s under the impression we were never seriously dating in the first place so she didn’t refer to it as a break up,” Kelly answers while scowling. “I get that we never sat down and had a conversation about what we are and where it’s going but I just assumed it was clear! I obviously wasn’t seeing anyone else and neither was she.”

Casey smiles weakly at Severide. He hates to say what he needs to say next. His tone is very clearly sarcastic as he speaks. “And you’ve never had a casual relationship with just one woman in particular, right?” 

He looks sheepish and scratches the back of his neck. “Point taken. See, this is why I don’t do the monogamy thing! I don’t know what the hell I’m doing half the time!”

“If you don’t know what you’re doing then figure out what you _want_ to do and tell her about it,” Casey suggests. “She has no way of knowing what you want from her unless you say the words.”

Severide grumbles and nods. Despite how frustrating it must be and how terrible he and Severide both are at talking about their feelings, _that’s_ what needs to happen here. Kelly needs to open up to Kidd and tell her exactly what he wants. He claps his friend on the shoulder encouragingly and then walks away.

He needs to talk to Brett about this fundraiser. And whether or not it’s a good idea to go.

He finds her on her bunk with her nose stuck in a book. He grins warmly from the doorway and watches her a moment. She chuckles softly to herself, probably having just read something funny, and then turns the page with a smile on her face.

Jesus, she is so beautiful. He _knows_ she’s beautiful but sometimes he takes for granted just how lovely she truly is. Right now, though, with her hair in a low ponytail and a light amused flush on her cheeks, he thinks he’s never known anyone as effortlessly gorgeous as Sylvie Brett.

He crosses the room to her and gently tugs on the end of her ponytail. She sets aside her book and glances up at him. When he nods at his quarters, she immediately follows him inside.

“How’d it go? Is Lucas okay?” She asks as he closes the door behind them.

“Yeah, he’s okay. He was inside their old house. Just...sitting there — missing his dad,” Matt answers. 

“I can’t imagine,” Sylvie states, shaking her head and sitting down on the end of his bunk. “Poor kid.”

“When I took him back to shelter I found out that the city may have to close it,” he informs her. “Alderman Becks said the tornado fell below the threshold of a national disaster and the local charity groups don’t have enough funds on their own to keep it open.”

“That’s terrible. All those people...where are they supposed to go?”

Matt shrugs. “He says he’s holding a fundraiser to help figure that out. He invited me to show up. He thinks it might help with _visibility_. Whatever that means.”

“Sounds like politician speak for awareness,” Sylvie replies with a wrinkled brow. “He just wants you to show up and what? Stand around in the background?”

“I think so yeah. Like a symbolic gesture of support. I’m not sure if I should go.”

“Do you support it? The idea of raising funds to keep the shelter open, I mean?” She asks him pointedly.

“Of course I do,” he answers instantly.

“Then you should go.”

He shakes his head and leans over the end of the bunk, with his hands on the foot of the bedframe. “Surely there’s someone more qualified for that than me. I’m hardly the most _visible_ person in the CFD. I’m a Lieutenant not a Chief.”

“You’re a Lieutenant who responded to direct damage from the storm _and_ you’re an exceptionally good Lieutenant — one who genuinely cares about the community. That’s not _nothing_ , Matt,” Sylvie assures him. “It’s up to you, but I think you should go. To support the Hickses if nothing else. What harm could it do?”

She’s right, of course. He cares about the Hickses and the community they serve and at the very least his presence would show support for the victims and the people running the shelters. That’s never a bad thing.

So after shift he shows up. But it’s a bigger deal than he imagined it to be. There’s press and cameras and the Alderman in front of a podium. Becks spots Matt the minute he steps into the room and waves him over — inviting him to speak.

Matt never considered he might be asked to speak. He tells Becks this and Becks just tells him that off the cuff is better. Which doesn’t help. Instead he thinks of Sylvie’s encouragement and her reminder that he does genuinely care. He lets that define his remarks — makes it the heart of everything he says.

He doesn’t get a chance to tell Sylvie right away. She’s covering for Chili on third shift, but she shows up at his door not long after the end of third shift with a proud smile on her face.

“The video of your speech is all over Facebook,” she tells him as she launches herself at him for a lingering kiss and a tight hug. “You were brilliant. No one could have said it better.”

“I just hope it helped,” he says with a modest shrug.

“I’m _positive_ it did,” she reassures him. “Now, to celebrate your success, I’m taking you to breakfast. My treat.”

He chuckles and nods. “Steak and eggs it is then.”

She laughs and playfully rolls her eyes. “Whatever you want, _Lieutenant_.”

Severide storms through the apartment behind him, stomping all the way into the kitchen. “Morning, Brett,” he says, tossing the words over his shoulder.

“Morning, Severide,” she replies before giving Matt a concerned glance.

Matt grabs his keys off the table by the door and then nods toward the hallway. “I’ll drive. Be back later, Sev!”

“Yeah, later!” He answers back.

Once they’re in the hallway with the door closed behind them, Matt grabs Sylvie’s hand and leads her back toward the elevator. 

“Apparently, he and Stella broke up.”

“What?” Sylvie asks in surprise. “She hasn’t mentioned it! When did this happen?”

“Not sure, exactly. He just told me about it during last shift,” Casey answers.

“What happened?” She asks.

“I’m not certain, but I think it all started with the gala.”

Sylvie winces. “Yeah, I heard about that. Although, if you ask me there was more to that than what meets the eye. Kelly didn’t seem thrilled to spend the evening with his dad.”

“He wasn’t. Things with him and Benny are...complicated at best,” Matt says, trying to keep it vague. It’s Severide’s story to tell. Not Matt’s.

“I thought that might be the case,” Sylvie replies with a sad sigh. “He could have just told Stella that.”

“Talking about feelings or past scars is not my or Severide’s favorite thing. He’s trying, I think. He just needs practice.”

“Well, I hope he figures it out,” Sylvie tells him. “Stella deserves someone who can make her feel like a priority. Especially after Grant.”

Matt can’t disagree with that. He loves his best friend — not that he’ll say that outloud — but Sylvie is right. Stella is great and she doesn’t deserve to be left in the dark or made to feel as if she’s on the outside looking in. Severide’s been happier than Matt’s seen him in a long time. Hopefully he understands that a connection like the one he has with Stella doesn’t come along every day.

He and Sylvie have breakfast and then they go back to his. Sylvie sleeps for a few hours while Matt works on getting his paperwork together for his final closing next week. Surprisingly, the inspections on the house all turned out well. No unexpected complications arose. He has just under a week until he’s handed the keys and he can finally get to work. He’s _itching_ to get started and make that house a _home_. Closing can’t come soon enough.

When she wakes up they spend the rest of the day wrapped up in each other — only leaving his room to hydrate and eat. 

Around 8 that night the apartment door slams shut and Sylvie’s phone blows up with text messages.

“I’m gonna guess that was Severide,” Matt says dryly. “And Stella is texting you.”

Sylvie huffs and nods before pulling herself out of bed and reaching for her clothes. “They had a fight at Molly’s and she needs some girl time. I don’t know what they fought about but I’ve never seen Stella so upset. I should head home. She’s opened a bottle of tequila and I have a feeling she’s going to need a shoulder to cry on — or at least someone to keep her from drunk dialing or egging his car.”

He winces and nods in urgent agreement. “As much as I hate to see you leave, you’re probably right.”

She kisses him quickly after throwing on her shirt. “I’ll see you on shift tomorrow.”

Once she’s gone, Casey gets dressed and ventures out into the living room to find Severide morosely nursing a beer.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kelly says as soon as he registers Matt’s presence.

“Wasn’t gonna ask you to,” he admits. “Just thought you might wanna join me for a couple of cigars on the roof.”

“As long as I can bring an extra beer or two,” Severide answers as he stands from the couch.

“Fine by me.”

True to his word, Kelly doesn’t talk about it. They sit in silence for the rest of the night with cigars and beers and a great view of the city at night.

Next shift, Boden catches Matt early to tell him Alderman Becks called to let him know Casey’s speech pulled in about fifty thousand dollars already. He considered it a great success. Matt was shocked but grateful. Those families need all the help they can get.

They get a scary call with a minor who attempted suicide which thankfully resulted in a successful save and then head back to the house. About fifteen minutes later, Boden calls Matt into his office.

“Didn’t want you hearing it from anyone else. Apparently, they are closing the shelter next week.”

“What?” Just an hour ago Boden told him they’d raised fifty thousand dollars. What about all that money?

“Just got a call from Alderman Becks. He’s, uh, very apologetic.”

“What happened to the money?”

“Says the operating expenses were higher than expected.”

What the _fuck_ does that mean? He’s confused as hell but thanks Boden for the information anyway. He leaves his Chief’s office feeling confused and a bit angry. How are the operating expenses higher than _fifty thousand dollars_? That makes no damn sense.

So Matt pays him a visit. He intends to find out exactly what happened himself. Despite the pessimistic voice in his head warning him politicians can’t be trusted, he _hopes_ Becks had a legitimate explanation.

Unfortunately, all their conversation does is convince him Becks a lying scumbag. He talks to Matt as if he’s stupid and won’t understand a budget breakdown or a stack of invoiced expenses. Matt runs his own business. He understands profits versus expenses. That’s all his job bids consist of on a regular basis. He ignores all of the Alderman’s patronizing vague explanations and asks for specifics. Becks never gives him any and essentially kicks Matt out of his office.

That’s when Matt _knows_ Alderman Becks is dirty and it’s just become his new mission in life to prove it.

******

When the next shift starts with an odd call to Soldier Field, Matt knows it’s a bad omen. Purple smoke? Never in all his years with the CFD has he ever seen anything like it. And it’s not every day Homeland Security shows up on one of their scenes.

The source of the smoke came from several smoke grenades which Homeland Security photographed and confiscated. The rigs come back to the house just as at least six squad cars come speeding by. They’re on their way to a third bomb threat. The first two of the day were hoaxes according to Chief Boden.

His bad feeling only grows after that. He has no idea what’s going on but clearly the city is at risk.

He decides to focus on something else. Like Becks. Since last shift, Matt has made several phone calls of his own including one to Century Philanthropy International, the Alderman’s charity partner for the fundraiser. The number was disconnected and upon further research Matt learned that Century Philanthropy has a bit of a suspicious reputation. There have been multiple complaints and lawsuits filed against them. It finally explained where the money supposedly went. Matt assumes they took it. Becks fell victim to a “charity-for-profit” scam or so it appears. 

Matt’s not convinced Becks is innocent.

Sylvie finds him when she and Shay get back to the house. He’s sorting through the house mail in the bull pen. And of course that mail includes a political flyer for Alderman Becks. Matt angrily tosses it in the trash as Sylvie approaches.

“Hey, you okay?” She asks. He’s told her all about his phone calls from this morning, including at least three to the Alderman himself that went unreturned.

He nods. “Still pissed. How did he not know it was a scheme? And why couldn’t he have his team be in charge of the fundraiser? They clearly know how after raising his campaign funds, wouldn’t you think?”

“It’s like you said, all he cared about was the publicity,” Sylvie says, rubbing his arm soothingly.

“Or,” Matt begins as he leans against a desk. “He was getting a cut. Maybe somebody in Intelligence could look into this for us.”

“Do you really think he would do that? That seems risky for a sitting Alderman,” Sylvie points out.

It’s a fair point but she didn’t see the look on his face when Matt confronted him the other day. “He was hiding something when I saw him the other day and if it was this charity-for-profit situation and he really is the victim of fraud then why wouldn’t he have just told me that? No, something about this is off.”

She nods slowly and gnaws on her bottom lip, leaning toward him so they can speak quietly. “Then we should look into it. Jay does owe me a favor. I could give him a call if you want.”

“We?” Matt asks with a warm grin.

“Yes, _we_. You have good instincts, Matt. If you think this guy is crooked then he probably is and you’re going to need all the help you can get. Starting with me,” she insists. “Do you want me to call Jay?”

“No,” Matt answers, giving her a grateful glance. “Let’s hold off on that for now. I don’t want to spook Becks.”

Matt turns in time to catch Boden as he’s heading into his office. “Chief, permission to run an errand?”

He nods. “Thirty minutes tops. It feels like one of those days.”

“I hear ya,” Matt says solemnly. He squeezes Sylvie’s shoulder as he passes her. “I’ll be right back.”

“Be careful,” she tells him as he walks away.

He goes to see the Alderman at his latest political campaign fundraiser, _not_ being run by a charity partner, and discretely confronts him. The Alderman tries to talk in circles again but Matt won’t let him. 

“You made a promise to those victims. You make good on that, we’re square. If not, well...one thing I learned from my speech last week, it’s the power of a firefighter standing in front of the cameras.” He shakes his hand for appearances sake and finishes his threat with an intimidating stare. “Just a little something to keep in mind.”

When he gets back to the house, he’s pulled into a meeting with Severide, Boden, Homeland Security, and a few of the higher up white shirts. The bad feeling from the start of the day continues as they’re briefed on a possible terror threat in their city. The hoaxes are an attempt to divide the city’s resources in preparation for an attack. But they don’t know what _kind_ of attack.

Casey also learns that Severide’s been working closely with the female agent who briefed them, Agent Ward. Apparently, she and him found this group's lab week before last — limiting their resources.

He still hasn’t found out what Severide and Stella fought about but he wonders if the flirtatious look Agent Ward gave Kelly as she left the house has anything to do with it. Not that he’ll ever ask. It’s not his business unless Severide decides to talk to him about it.

Shift ends but before it does Matt gets a voicemail from Alderman Becks asking him to set up a dinner so they can talk about the tornado victims. Sylvie loops her arm through his as he tells her about it and leads him toward the apron.

“Well, of course he responded quickly. There’s nothing that scares corrupt people more than a person who is authentically good like _you_ ,” she tells him, leaning up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Do you think he’s found a solution already?”

Matt sighs and shrugs, rubbing a hand across his temple. “We’ll see.”

Turns out, he has a solution for the Hickses. The Alderman managed to get them a rather large FEMA settlement but he has no clear answer when Matt asks about the rest of the victims. He labels it a “work in progress” which, quite frankly, isn’t good enough.

After that dinner borders on disturbing.

“But here’s what I’m thinking. Am I right that you have three weeks’ furlough saved up?”

What the—yeah, he does, but that’s personnel records. It’s confidential.

“How do _you_ know that?” Matt asks worriedly. It’s ridiculously creepy that this man managed to find out how much furlough Matt has and hasn’t used.

It’s so disconcerting that the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“My wife and I are members of the Saginaw Resort on Lake Geneva. It’s a beautiful place.” Becks holds up a car key and then places it down on the table in front of Matt. “Take my car. Bring your girl. We’ll hash it out.”

This feels like a bribe and it makes Matt’s stomach turn. “Hash wh—“

“Ah damn,” Becks says as they’re interrupted by one of his aids and a ding on his cell phone.

But Matt won’t be put off. “Hash what out exactly?”

“Sorry. Uh, they sprung this vote on me. Please continue. Dinner’s on me,” he says as he motions to the plate of oysters Matt hasn’t touched.

“We’re not done,” Matt states defiantly.

“Absolutely not. My aid will handle all the details. Enjoy the lake,” Becks says, patting Matt on the arm as he leaves.

Matt gives the aid the car key Becks thrust on him and then tells him to shove it when he tries to give him an itinerary for a week in Lake Geneva. If he takes Sylvie to Lake Geneva, which isn’t a wholly bad idea, it’ll be on his dime _not_ the Alderman’s and it won’t be a part of a gesture to sweep a politician’s dirt under the rug.

He will not let this man be a skeleton in his closet.

He relays all of this to Sylvie later as they sit on her couch. She gets up from where she’s snuggled into him and then straddles his lap, running her fingers through his hair.

“Clearly, Alderman Becks doesn’t know who he’s dealing with,” she says before she closes the distance between them to kiss him. “There’s no one less impressed by luxury than Matt Casey and no one less likely to accept a bribe. I am very proud of you and, honestly, more than a little turned on.”

“That dinner was a waste of time,” Matt mutters with a shake of his head. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“It wasn’t a waste of time,” she tells him, reassuringly. “At the very least you helped the Hickses. Dawn and Lucas will never forget that.”

“I wanted to help all the victims — not just one or two — and I don’t think that’s possible now,” Matt admits, feeling disappointed in himself.

“You did your very best, Matt. That’s all anyone can ask of you. The attempt doesn’t mean less because it didn’t go exactly how you wanted it to,” she reminds him. “Your best effort is _enough_. As hard as that is for you to believe. I know you doubt yourself, but don’t doubt yourself when it comes to this.”

“Easier said than done,” he confesses.

“Well, then maybe I should distract you,” she replies with a sly smirk. “Get us back to talking about how turned on I get watching you take on a worthwhile fight.”

She rocks her hips against his and he moves with her on instinct, causing a delicious friction that pulls a groan from deep in his throat.

“That might just work,” he quips.

She chuckles and grins confidently at him. “You think?”

She does it again, harder this time. He curses under his breath and then uses his hand on the back of her neck to bring her mouth to his in a bruising kiss. His other hand slips under her shirt and ambles up her spine. She whimpers into their open mouthed kisses while reaching for his belt.

It’s safe to say they don’t get much talking done after that. Alderman Becks is completely forgotten. How can he dwell on him when he’s got a very willing and eager Sylvie Brett on his lap?


	7. 4x13: Take No Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Firehouse 51 gets caught up in a terrifying call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** This chapter is the back half of 4x13. It’s pretty terrifying and if you haven’t seen the episode let me warn you...there’s an active shooter scenario in this chapter. If that’s a trigger for you or a fear then you may want to skip the middle bits of this chapter and only read the beginning two sections and the ending section.
> 
> BTW WE’RE BACK TOMORROW NIGHT WITH NEW ONE CHICAGO EPISODES YESSSSS. I am so ready even if we’re in for a lot of Brettsey angst. Let’s get this show on the road so we can get to that endgame! 
> 
> Anyway, happy reading!
> 
> xoxo
> 
> ******

The keys are in his hand.

The keys to his _house_ are in the palm of his hand at this very moment.

Damn, that feels good.

It’s not a townhouse he got a deal on because he agreed to renovate for the owner while he rented or a condo he wasn’t all that crazy about to begin with — it’s an honest to god _house_.

And, yeah okay, it kinda looks like the knock off version of The Brady Bunch lived there but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed. It’s nothing he can’t handle.

First step, walk the space. He needs to get a feel for the possibilities.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sylvie says as he reaches to unlock the door. “We need a picture. Turn around.”

He sighs as if he’s put out by her insistence but really he doesn’t mind. He’s glad she’s excited. Considering she’ll eventually live here with him, he’d be concerned if she wasn’t.

He turns around with his arms hanging limply at his sides and Sylvie gives him a dry glance. “You could maybe try a smile, you know.” Her brow arches and fond exasperation shines in her eyes. “And hold the keys up so we can see them! This is an exciting day!”

She has a point, but he’s rather impatient to get started. He’s already waited 30 days. Isn’t that long enough?

“Matt,” Sylvie scolds, but the chuckle creeping into her tone contradicts any real censure in her voice.

He holds the keys by looping his finger through the keyring and then does his best to give her a genuine smile. She laughs lightly as she snaps the picture and then joins him on the front steps with a triumphant grin.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, now, was it?” She asks.

It wasn’t but he grumbles a complaint for the purpose of the bit as he slides the key into place and turns the lock. The knob turns, the door opens, and then finally he steps inside.

He hasn’t even started but even now it feels like home. This is it. This is where he longs to take root. In this house, in this neighborhood, and in _this_ city.

Sylvie steps in behind him, glancing around the dated space. “What are you going to do first?”

“The master bedroom and bathroom and then the kitchen,” he tells her. “Once those are done I can move in and work on the rest during my down time.”

“Sounds like a solid plan,” Sylvie says, coming from behind him and wrapping her arms around his middle.

He places his hands on top of hers as they rest on his chest. “I’m assuming you’ll want a say in the closet layout.”

She chuckles with her cheek against his back and nods. “You know me so well. Also, if the master bath does not include a large enough tub to soak in then you’re going to have some serious explaining to do.”

He lifts one of her hands and presses her palm to his lips. “Noted and filed.”

“You actually did it,” she tells him with a smile. “You set a goal and you did it. That has to feel amazing.”

He nods and smiles at the room around him. As hard as it is to believe, with the brown shag carpet and wood panel walls, he’s actually insanely proud of this purchase. He feels like a successful and accomplished adult. “It does. It really does.”

“I’m proud of you,” she tells him, shifting her hold to come around to his side. He drops an arm around her shoulders and kisses the top of her head. “I can’t wait to see what you turn this place into.”

“One step at a time,” he reminds her. “After next shift, I’ve got plumbers and electricians coming. This property sat around empty for a while. I’m a little worried about neglect being my biggest obstacle. Getting the plumbing and electrical in order should help with that.”

“And the air conditioner,” she says, waving a hand in front of her face. “It’s stuffy in here.”

“Yeah, good point,” he says wiping his sweaty brow on his t-shirt sleeve. “Let’s get out of here for now. Lunch?”

“Sure,” she agrees, brightly. “Whatever you want.”

New house, a sense of accomplishment, _Sylvie_. He truly didn’t think life could get much better.

******

Shift starts with two things: the return of that foreboding sense of dread from last shift and Kidd continuing to avoid Severide like the plague.

As proven by Kidd’s rather obvious u-turn as she saw them approaching the Firehouse. She was headed toward 81 but swiftly changed direction, looping her arm through Sylvie’s and dragging her through the double doors and into the house.

Sylvie heaved a sigh, staring forlornly at 61. No doubt feeling anxious at being interrupted mid-inventory. Matt couldn’t help but chuckle a little at her expense. He’d never thought of organization as a passion until he’d met Sylvie, but it certainly was for her.

“You haven’t talked to her yet?” Shay asks Severide as the three of them walk across the apron together.

“It’s hard to talk to someone who flees at the sight of you,” Severide huffs. “And when she’s not avoiding me she treats me like I don’t exist. What do you expect me to do?”

Shay rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Try harder. That’s what I expect you to do.”

Matt’s eyes widen and he presses his lips into a tight line, trying not to grin. He probably shouldn’t enjoy Shay giving Severide hell, but considering he and Matt silently agree to let each other process their own emotions as they see fit...well, _someone_ has to. Shay is clearly the optimal choice.

“Hey,” Matt says, lightly punching Severide’s shoulder and changing the subject. “You still planning to help me day after tomorrow? I need all the hands I can get. Lots of carpet and tile to rip up.”

“Yeah, man, I’ll be there. Cruz and Capp are coming too. We’ve gotcha covered,” Severide assures him.

“Great,” Matt says enthusiastically, but after a moment he gives Severide a wary look. “But don’t give me shit about this place when you see it, okay? I know it needs _a lot_ of help. I’m well aware.”

Severide snorts and smirks. “I make no promises.”

“Did that DHS agent who’s been flirting with you figure out what sort of threat we’re all under yet?” Leslie asks, her tone clipped.

“She was flirting with me but I was not flirting back! Just to be clear!” Severide insists.

“Maybe but you didn’t send her packing either.”

Ah, so that’s what happened at Molly’s the other night. Now the fight makes sense. 

“Really, Sev?” Matt asks with a tired sigh.

“I didn’t want to be rude!”

Shay rolls her eyes again. “Sure. It couldn’t be that you enjoyed it just a little bit. But really, has she figured it out?”

“Not that I know of,” he answers. “But she’s been pretty tight lipped about the whole thing. My impression is that it could be anything. The options are pretty wide open.”

“That’s not terrifying at all,” Shay mutters sarcastically.

Casey understands the sentiment.

******

“Mouch,” Joe says, as they’re all gathered in the common room later that morning. “Just talked to Burgess over at the 21st. What’s this I hear about the boxing match being for yours and Platt’s wedding?”

Sylvie winces and Matt shakes his head knowingly. 

Of course. It would be just like Platt to use their friends and coworkers to fund their wedding. Not so much Mouch, but definitely Platt. Plus, they both know how much 51 and the 21st like a good competition. 

“Technically, the reception’s been paid for,” Mouch says, attempting an explanation. “It’s more about recouping the costs.”

“Uh-uh. No way. I am not gonna throw away 50 bucks so that you and Platt can have your dream wedding. I want a refund.”

Sylvie rolls her eyes and finishes fixing her cup of coffee, handing Matt the pot once she’s done.

“Hey!” Herrmann yells. “Nothing doing, alright? We still need you in the corner. This is a team effort.”

Otis walks in, looking worried and preoccupied. He turns on the television, tunes it to the news, and addresses the group. “Hey, guys, there’s something going down near The Loop.”

They all turn to watch and the sinking feeling in Matt’s chest is back. The one he had last shift when all the bomb threats were happening. Something about today isn’t right. He can feel it. He has no idea what’s going to happen or when, but something big is coming.

He never has these sort of premonitions, but he hasn’t been able to shake it for days. The pricking at the back of his neck has to mean something.

The police are responding to reports of four abandoned vans surrounding Willis Tower. _Lots_ of police. The footage on the news shows patrol cars and unmarked police vehicles everywhere. They’re trying to evacuate as many people as they can and the bomb squad has arrived on scene. It’s a scary sight, for sure. But it sounds like the city has directed all the manpower they can manage to the area and are being cautious of possible explosives.

Just as the report begins to wrap up the bells go off.

_“Station 51, box alarm, 2050 Kinzie Avenue.”_

“Wait,” Jimmy says with a furrowed brow. “That’s not Willis Tower.”

Typical candidate. Expecting to be the center of the chaos at all times.

“Got a whole city to serve. Let’s move it, Candidate,” Casey orders as they all jog toward their rigs.

Truck arrives on scene first and they head into the building.

“Chief, 81 is in the building,” Matt says into his radio. “But we’re not seeing anything.”

“Take no chances today, 81,” Chief replies. “Ambo’s on the way in.”

“Copy, Chief.” He instructs his team to fan out and search for any signs of a fire. The barest hint of smoke or the smell of it or even the feeling of heat through the walls. Chief is right. They take no chances.

After a few minutes they still come up empty.

“Casey, report.”

“Chief, still no sign of smoke in the building. Checking to see if it was a faulty sensor,” Matt says as he spots Brett and Shay walking toward him. He meets them halfway as Boden responds.

“Have the paramedics look for a wall-mounted defibrillator. That could have set it off.”

“Got it,” Shay says with a nod. “Most offices keep those in common areas or break rooms. We’ll check there first.”

He nods and gives Brett an urgent glance. He knows it looks like nothing right now but there’s dread gnawing at his gut and he needs her to be careful. She smiles reassuringly in return but follows it with an urgent look of her own. He knows what she’s saying through the silence. 

_“Be careful.” “You too. You’re more of a risk than me.”_

He smirks in agreement which causes her to grin and shake her head at him. 

They split up. The medics head to the break room and he heads to the basement. While he walks, he overhears Herrmann checking with the security guard for a headcount and Boden issuing an evacuation order, just to be safe.

“81, continue your sweep,” Matt orders. “I’m heading down into the basement to check the alarm.”

“Got it, Lieutenant,” Herrmann confirms.

Casey finds the electrical room that houses the alarm and the breakers as well as the heating and air for the building. He’s just begun inspecting the alarm when a burst of loud bangs fills the air along with the unmistakable sound of rapid gunfire. _Fuck_.

 _“Mayday, mayday!”_ Mouch’s voice shouts over the radio. “We have an active shooter! Need rescue!”

More loud bangs, these are muffled by the walls, and then…

“Truck 81! Confirm! Don’t let anyone leave the building! We have an outside shooter! Hold your positions until further notice!”

Matt’s blood runs cold and practically freezes in his veins. He stops everything he’s doing to confirm that his guys heard Boden’s order. He _is not_ losing anyone today.

“81, _do you copy_?”

No immediate reply.

Then he remembers Shay and Brett headed for the breakroom.

 _Brett_. Dammit.

“ _Brett_ , Shay, do you copy?” He asks, trying to remain calm. He can feel himself tensing with every round of gunfire and with Sylvie out of sight a calm clear head is a bit hard to find.

“Yeah, we copy,” Shay replies. “Both of us.”

She stresses the word both, knowing he’ll be worried about Brett in particular. He breathes a sigh of relief even if they’re not out of danger. At least he knows the gunmen haven’t found either of his medics yet.

“Find a safe position and stay there,” Matt instructs, though it feels more like a plea.

 _“Copy that_.”

Sylvie. Thank God. Jesus, it’s amazing how reassuring it is just to hear her voice.

The gun shots suddenly come closer and Matt swiftly turns off his radio. He steps lightly, carefully, not wanting to make any noise to alert anyone of his presence. He peaks around the corner and catches sight of one of the shooters. He’s not hesitating for a single moment to stop in each doorway and shoot whoever’s inside. The shouts, screams, and pleads are unbearable. Matt’s going to hear them in his nightmares for years to come. He just knows it.

The gunman enters another room -- to look for more victims Matt assumes -- and he lets himself relax by a fraction. Just enough to be startled by the sound of footsteps on a metallic staircase to his left. He grips his halligan tighter, preparing to use it to knock his assailant unconscious but as he rears back the intruder comes into view -- Otis.

Otis holds a sledgehammer and nearly takes a swing at Casey, stopping short when he recognizes him. They both heave a sigh of relief.

“We had to kill our radios,” Otis informs him. “We found a secure spot. Come on.”

He squeezes Otis shoulder, gratefully, and then follows after him as closely as he can. He turns his radio back on once he’s safely inside the room with the rest of Truck. He hopes against hope that Brett and Shay made it there too but he doesn’t see them. Meaning they’re still in the damn break room for all he knows -- completely exposed.

He turns his radio back on to report in to Boden, his voice barely above a whisper. “Chief, this is Casey. I’m back with Truck and some civilians. Everyone’s okay.”

“Casey, thank God.”

“We’re on the third floor, B, C corner, but have to stay radio silent.”

“Okay, hang tight. SWAT is on it’s way,” Boden informs them. “We’re gonna get you out.”

He should just say copy and turn off his radio but he has to ask, he has to know. His radio’s been off for several minutes. He could have missed hearing from 61.

“Any word from Ambo?” He asks, trying to sound as objective as possible.

“No,” Boden replies.

The dread in his gut starts to grow heavier, like a ball of lead in his stomach.

“If you have to go radio silent then I assume they would too.”

He bites back a frustrated groan, meeting Kidd’s worried gaze across the room, and simply responds, “copy.”

And with that he turns off his radio, effectively cutting himself off from Shay and Brett. It’s painful, torturous, but he has to do it or else he risks his Truck crew too. Neither Brett nor Shay would want that. Kidd approaches him slowly, leaning toward his ear.

“They’ll be okay, Lieutenant. They’re smart and capable. They know what to do,” she says, reassuringly.

He nods, but chooses to say nothing else. Afraid he’ll unravel the one very loose thread of professionalism he has left. He does as he’s told and holds his position, even if every fiber of his being wants to go out there and search for Brett. After several minutes, Mouch speaks up. 

“Anyone else smell smoke?”

Casey turns his head to answer Mouch, noticing that he does actually smell smoke, but once Mouch is in his line of sight his answer is unnecessary. There’s smoke drifting out of the vent in the wall. This scenario just got ten times worse.

Goddamn it.

“They disabled the sprinklers to start a fire,” Matt declares, dreading his next words. “We gotta move.”

“The man said sit tight. Those shooters are still out there,” one of the civilians, the security guard by the looks of it, tells him -- as if he needs reminding.

“We’ll stand a better chance against them than we will against a fire,” Matt warns. He moves to crouch in the middle of the civilians, addressing them all at once. “Everyone, listen up. I know everyone here is scared. That’s okay.” It better be because he’s scared out of his fucking mind, not that he can show it. “But I promise, you will not be alone. We’ll surround you every single step of the way, and we’ll survive together.”

They proceed with caution using the thermal camera to see through the smoke. Using the smoke for cover is honestly their best bet for survival. The gunmen don’t have the tools to see through it like they do. There’s one close call, but as he hoped the smoke hid them from view and once the shooter passed they kept moving. Eventually finding the exit where the door’s been chained and padlocked.

“Son of a bitch,” Casey curses before using his halligan to break the chains.

He hangs back once the doors open, letting the civilians and the rest of his crew exit first. He has a brief thought that he might go back in search of Brett and Shay but before he can one of the shooters is on his tail. He has to keep him from reaching the civilians that made it outside safely. He runs and closes the door behind him, barricading them with his halligan across the bars. Shots dent the metal door just centimeters above his head.

_Holy fuck! That was close._

SWAT appears just as Matt escapes.

The officer informs the rest of his team where the shooter was and moments later the roaring of a gunfire exchange is heard on the other side of the door.

“Target’s down,” the officer says. “Anyone else in there?”

“Our paramedics!” Matt immediately exclaims.

Casey is moved back and away from the building by other officers as SWAT charges inside. He rejoins his crew by 81 -- finding them in various emotional states. They are all still watching the building’s entrance and listening closely to their radios. Like Casey, they’re waiting for any sign of Shay or Brett.

Severide finds them. At first he’d been standing beside Casey, but then he dropped back to be shoulder to shoulder with Kidd. His eyes only ever leave her to watch out for Shay. Severide’s eyes are glassy and a little red. Matt can clearly see the worry in them. He knows exactly how he feels. His own eyes are more than a little wet and shiny. He hasn’t seen a mirror but he knows it just the same.

Matt holds his breath. He doesn’t know for how long, but he’s certain he doesn’t breath. Not even when the SWAT leader reports “target down”. That alone doesn’t tell him what he needs to know. 

She has to be okay. She _has to be_. He’s already lost Hallie and Gabby. He wouldn’t survive it if he lost Sylvie too. His mind circles back around to a conversation he and Sylvie had ages ago about the possibility of him being cursed. Sylvie had assured him he wasn’t, but while he’s standing outside this building waiting to find out if she’s dead or alive…

Well, he certainly _feels_ cursed.

There’s a crackle and a pop over the radio on his shoulder. That’s the sound that happens when a radio is turned on.

Boden shifts from one foot to the other with aggravated anxiety and gruffly speaks into his radio. “61, report.”

“We’re good, Chief,” Shay responds. “Safe and sound.”

“Thank God,” Boden answers.

“We’ve got a victim in bad shape though, Chief. It takes both of us to keep pressure.”

Matt’s heart leaps in his chest. That’s her. That’s Sylvie. His entire being sags in relief as she continues -- her voice is music to his ears. She’s safe. She’s really and truly _safe_. 

“We need a hand. If somebody could bring our stretcher to the front stairs and a backboard to us--”

“81’s on it,” Matt replies, interrupting her request. “Borelli, Kidd, get the stretcher. Mouch, Herrmann, Otis get a blackboard and follow me.”

Doing his job is merely an excuse to see her for himself. He needs his eyes on her, even if it’s just for a moment. It takes them no time at all to reach them in the first floor hallway. He can’t grab her and hold him against her the way he wants to, but her eyes find his and they’re raw but clear and confident. She’s more than present enough to do her job and he doesn’t see a single scratch on her.

She drags her gaze over him, assessing him for injuries just as he did her. She lets out a shaky breath when she finishes and finds him whole.

They get the patient on a backboard and help Shay and Brett carry her to their stretcher.

“You drop that patient off at Med and head right back to 51,” Boden commands as he passes Shay and Brett on his way inside the building with the SWAT Leader at his side. “We’re all out of service for the remainder of shift. Understood?”

“Copy that, Chief,” Shay replies with a nod.

Brett gets in the back with the patient and Matt manages to grab her hand to help her step up, squeezing it reassuringly as she goes. 

“See you back at the house,” he whispers.

She nods and then takes her place on the bench seat across from her patient. He closes the back ambo doors and thumps them as they close, indicating to Shay she’s good to drive away. They all watch 61 head off toward Med and then head back to 81, waiting for Chief to give the all clear.

******

When they get back to the house, Ambo is already there.

He finds Sylvie with Shay in the locker room. The two women are huddled together on one of the wooden benches, hugging each other tightly. Shay sees him first and releases Sylvie with a quick kiss to her cheek.

“Call me later if you need me,” Leslie tells her.

“You too,” Sylvie returns.

“I might,” Shay agrees. “Provided Allison doesn’t wrap me up in a blanket and force feed me hot beverages for the rest of the night.”

Brett lets out a watery chuckle and nods. “Of course.”

“Casey,” Shay greets, nodding in his directions. 

“Shay,” he replies.

She leaves Sylvie’s side and wraps her arms around him with a tight friendly squeeze of his shoulders. “Glad you’re okay.”

“You too,” he says, returning the hug. 

She pats his back as she steps away from him and throws one last wave at Sylvie. “See you later, Partner.”

“Yeah, later,” Sylvie says with a deep breath.

He doesn’t hold off another second after Shay leaves. He grabs Sylvie up off the bench and gathers her into his arms. She blows out a shaky breath as she nestles her face into the crook of his neck and reciprocates his embrace. He presses his lips to the top of her head as he leans them back against the lockers.

“I was so worried about you,” Sylvie confesses, placing a soft kiss on his neck. 

He somehow finds a way to hold her even tighter, pressing her flush against his chest. “The feeling’s mutual. Those minutes standing outside waiting to hear your status nearly destroyed me. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“As okay as I can be given the circumstances,” she replies. She gulps and he can feel it against him, that’s how tightly he’s holding her. “God, all those people. Their pleas and screams--how do you get past something like that?”

“Day by day, little by little,” Matt says hopefully.

“Are _you_ okay?” She asks, craning back to meet his eyes.

He nods and meets her worried gaze with his own earnest one. “I’m okay as long as _you’re_ okay.”

“I love you,” she says, slanting her mouth against his tenderly.

He kisses her back and he tries to communicate how grateful he is to have her safe and sound and wrapped in his arms. He chases her mouth as she pulls away for two more small kisses, and then says, “I love you too.”

“Take me home, Matt,” she requests, snuggling back into him. “I want to lounge around with you and watch something stupid on television.”

“I think I can make that happen,” he promises. “Go lay down in my quarters. I’m gonna change out and then we can go, okay?”

She nods silently, lingering long enough for him to kiss her forehead and then her temple, before she pulls out of his arms. Once she’s gone he rolls his neck, trying to work out the tension in his muscles, and huffs. For a second, he genuinely thought he lost her. 

Just like he lost Gabby.

Just like he lost Hallie.

Just like he loses _everyone_.

His dad’s dead, his mom’s off god knows where, and his relationship with his sister is still a bit tentative. The only people that have stuck around for any significant amount of time are his coworkers at 51. But while he loves his job he knows he lost both Hallie and Gabby because of it. People who are willing to put it all on the line to help others will always be at a greater risk. Sylvie is very different from either Hallie or Gabby but she does have that in common with both of them. Saving people is her calling.

And someday he could lose her to it.

He feels like some old wound in his chest has just popped open. His eyes sting with tears and his lungs burn as he tries to force himself to breathe evenly.

He’d dryly commented to Sylvie once that he thought the Casey family was cursed with failed relationships. His sister’s divorce, his two tragic engagements, his parents _toxic_ marriage. They all certainly _seemed_ cursed. But he personally never seemed cursed until he dared to take the next step in a relationship or recommit himself to it.

He’d just gotten back together with Hallie when she died and just proposed to Gabby when _she_ died. Now, he and Sylvie have decided to move in together and they both nearly die on a nightmarish active shooter call? It seems too much to be a coincidence. 

A coincidence is more plausible than a curse; he knows that and he’s not normally so superstitious but he’d do anything to keep Sylvie safe. He didn’t think he could take living in any world without her. God, he’s an idiot.

Cursed? He’s not cursed.

That sounds ridiculous.

He knows what Sylvie would say. She’d say the same thing she said last time, _“I know you’ve lost a lot and it must feel like that, but you’re not.”_

And Sylvie is never wrong.

He changes, slams his locker door shut, and shoulders his duffle.

He knows he’s not cursed…

But that seed of doubt was planted a long time ago and, despite all logic or reason, a small part of him believes it’s true. Suddenly, he’s terrified of moving beyond living together. His dreams of marriage seem an unnecessary risk now -- like he would be deliberately putting her in danger.

He scoffs at himself and shakes the thoughts away.

 _Grow up_ , Casey. This is the real world, not a fairy tale.

The reality is his luck is _shit_ and always will be.

It doesn't mean he’s destined to lose Sylvie someday. _It can’t_. He won’t let it. There’s no way in hell he’s living a life that doesn’t include Sylvie Brett -- curse or no curse.


	8. 4x14: Perfect Timing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt is faced with a big decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** This is a LONGGGG one folks, but 4x14 was a BIG episode for Matt so that makes sense. I also wrote in a lot more original stuff just because that’s _truly_ what this collection is about. I hope you guys enjoy it! 
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo
> 
> ******

“And then she ended it. For a second time,” Severide says, as he works on removing the old discolored tile in the master bath.

Matt nods as he peels up the cracked linoleum on the floor, just enough to acknowledge he’s listening.

Severide lets out a dry snort. “I didn’t know you could dump a person twice without technically dating them.”

“What did she say exactly?” Matt asks. “Actually, no. What did _you_ say?”

“I said, I’m not really good at the monogamy thing—“

Matt winces with a hiss.

“—And she said, it’s not like I’m trying to put a ring on your finger and then walked away. So, I followed after her, wanting to explain, and she stopped me and then she said, look we’re not a couple and you don’t have to worry about me thinking we are. Not anymore.”

“What did that mean?” Matt asks in confusion.

“She explained by saying she couldn’t see me _socially_ anymore. That it would be best for both of us if we moved on.”

“And you said?”

Severide hesitates and gives Matt a sheepish glance. “I think I nodded?”

“You don’t know?”

“I heard a buzzing between my ears and couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. I _might_ have said okay? I couldn’t tell you. End result was the same regardless. She walked away and left me standing alone outside of Molly’s.”

“That’s rough, man,” Matt replies, sympathetically.

“I sort of thought that active shooter call might have brought us closer,” he admits, popping off another row of tile. “But it just drove us further apart. It’s fine. Whatever. This is why I don’t do monogamy, right? I’ll leave it in the past and move on like I always do.”

Matt stops what he’s doing to squeeze Severide’s shoulder. He starts to ask if Severide tried again to simply say how he _feels_ but before he can Cruz appears in the bathroom doorway.

“The electrician is looking at the wiring in the living room, he needs to talk to you.”

Matt nods, stands, and brushes his hands on his jeans. “Take over here for me, will you? I’ll see what’s up.”

Cruz nods and takes Casey’s place peeling up the flooring. 

Capp is in the kitchen carefully knocking down the green sculpted tile backsplash while the plumber checks out the pipes connected to the kitchen sink. Matt nods at him and receives an eager thumbs up in return.

“Casey,” the electrician calls from the living room light switch. 

Matt swerves and heads toward him, ready to solve the latest problem. Turns out, the electricity in the living room isn’t working. None of the outlets are putting out a charge. Casey just thought the lightswitch wasn’t properly connecting but it turns out there’s faulty wiring somewhere. _Perfect_.

The day becomes too busy for talking after that. Before he has a chance to get back upstairs and check Severide and Cruz’s progress, Sylvie comes through the front door while balancing two boxes of pizza in her free hand.

“Lunch!” She yells, as she side-steps various tools and supplies and heads for the breakfast bar.

The electrician has just found the problem. They believe it’s an issue in the fuse box. Matt leads him to the basement door and then excuses himself to greet Sylvie.

“Hey, babe,” he says, kissing her quickly. “Perfect timing.”

The plumber stands up from underneath the kitchen sink, wiping his hands on a rag. “You’re all set in the kitchen. Where do you want me to check next?”

“The master bath,” Matt answers. “I’ll lead you to it.” He glances from the plumber to Sylvie. “And send Cruz and Severide down once I do.”

As they leave, Capp reaches for the pizza boxes and Sylvie slaps his hand away. “Uh-uh! _You_ are waiting for the others to join us. I will not have a repeat of dinner at the house the other night when you took too many slices and we ran out.”

“I thought you and Shay would eat a salad or something!” Capp says defensively, shaking his hand as if it’s in pain.

He shows the plumber to the bathroom and tells Severide and Cruz to go eat. Enough of the tile has been pulled off so that Casey can pry off the drywall and expose the pipes in the combination shower and bathtub.

“These pipes here and the his and hers sinks,” he tells him, pointing between both. 

The plumber nods and then steps into the tub. 

Satisfied that he knows what he’s doing, Matt leaves and heads toward the food himself. He’s famished. They’ve been going nonstop since the neighborhood quiet hours ended at eight and it’s now almost two. He’s running on coffee and a bagel which has long since evaporated from his system.

He pulls up a short step ladder to the breakfast bar and grabs a napkin from the open lid of the box. The napkin is held in one hand while his other scoops up a slice of Chicago Style Deep Dish.

“Not exactly the healthiest lunch I’ve ever had,” he says, grinning teasingly at Sylvie.

“I have no doubt you’ll all work off the carbs,” she replies with a chuckle, kissing his cheek habitually. “Now, if you guys are good here, I actually have to go. Herrmann recruited me and Stella to help set up for Battle of the Badges.”

“Sounds fun,” Cruz says sarcastically.

“Hey!” Brett says, as if suddenly noticing Joe is sitting across from her. “How did you get out of Battle of the Badges prep! You’re in the corner with Jimmy!”

“I was excused to help Casey get started on his house. Herrmann says it’s about time the Lieutenant got himself together and planted himself somewhere so the more help he has the closer this is to actually happening.”

Severide snorts through a laugh and nearly chokes on a bite of pizza. “Sounds like Herrmann.”

“You know the minute this house is finished the focus is gonna shift to you, right?” Casey asks him with a quirked brow.

“Well, shit,” he mutters, taking a sip of his water. “Then maybe I shouldn’t be helping you.”

“Boys,” Sylvie sighs. She shoulders the strap of her bag and chuckles, pointing at the boxes of pizza. “If there’s any left when you’ve _all_ had your fill let Capp take it home. His leg is hollow, he needs the food.”

Capp sits up straighter and smiles proudly. “I’m a bottomless pit.”

They all blink at him for a moment before Severide turns and smirks at Sylvie. “Yes, mom.”

She smacks his shoulder and laughs. “Shut up.” Her gaze switches to Matt’s. “Are you coming to mine later?”

He nods. “As soon as we finish up here.”

“Okay.” She leans into him and gives him a chaste kiss. “See you then.”

She squeezes his arm and then heads for the door.

“Bye, mom!” Severide yells after her as she’s standing in the front doorway.

“Screw you, Severide!”

They all laugh at her breezy insult and watch the door close behind her.

“I ever tell you how much I like her?” Severide asks with a smug grin. “Cause I really do, especially for you.”

“Gee, you know, that was the last piece of validation I so desperately needed,” Matt snarks.

Severide snickers. “I thought it might be.”

******

They reach a stopping point at around five that afternoon and start cleaning up. They’ve accomplished everything he hoped to get done today. It means, after next shift he can round up some guys (probably paid this time instead of bribed with deep dish and avoiding Battle of the Badges) and come back to get started on the _real_ work.

He ordered his first supplies last week and they should be in day after tomorrow. He’ll go pick it all up and then get started on the master bath. If he can get in full days between shifts he can have it done in two weeks. Luckily, it’s late fall and construction jobs are scarce anyway due to the lowering temperatures. Currently, he has no other job that will split his focus.

After the bathroom, he’ll work on the master bedroom and then the kitchen, and—last but not least—the bedroom closet. The master bedroom should be easy. Pull up the carpet, install new flooring, repaint the walls, replace the moldings, install new lighting fixtures and _done_. It shouldn’t take any longer than a week.

The kitchen will likely take the longest. But he’ll worry about that when it comes. 

Afterward, he drives over to Brett’s as promised. She’s waiting with dinner in progress, the Blackhawks on her television (and she’s not a hockey fan so that’s a gesture on it’s own), and a cold beer.

“Okay, you’re officially an angel,” he tells her, kissing her quickly before swiping a sip from the beer and heading to the shower. “Be back in a few minutes. I’m sweaty and dusty.”

He showers and changes quickly. He’s started keeping some clothes at her place for moments like this. They sit down to eat at her tiny kitchen table and she slides a small metallic object across the table.

“What’s this?” He asks as she removes her hand.

“A key,” she says with a warm smile. “In case you need it.”

He beams at her, immediately getting up from the table to grab his keys off the counter. He adds the key to his keyring as he walks back and then rounds the table. He turns her chair and looms over her with one hand leaned into the wall above her shoulder.

“Thank you,” he replies, setting his keys down on the table. “This means a lot to me.”

“Good,” she says, grinning widely. “I thought it might.”

He picks up his key ring again, removes his extra house key from it, and places it in her palm. “I’ve been meaning to give that to you for a week.”

She closes her hand around it, holding it tightly, and then brings her empty hand up to cup his cheek. “It took everything in me not to ask and prompt you to return the gesture,” she admits with a soft laugh. “I love you.”

“I never needed prompting,” he assures her. “I love you too.”

He rushes forward and captures her lips with his, kissing her hungrily. She’s been almost too good to be true these last few weeks. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this consistently happy for so long in his _life_. It’s all because of her, whether she realizes it or not.

He grabs her hand and pulls her up from the chair as the kiss ends.

“Where are we going?”

“Where do you think?” He asks with a roguish smirk.

“But what about dinner?”

“It’ll keep,” he says, pulling her into his side and slipping his hand under the back of her t-shirt. “And we can always reheat it if it doesn’t.”

He presses his lips to the hinge of her jaw and then kisses a downward trail until he reaches her pulse point. He fastens his lips to that spot, nibbling and licking. Sylvie moans and grips his shoulders.

“Yeah,” she rasps. “Yeah, okay, bedroom now, dinner later.”

He grins against her skin before pulling away. “Thought I might convince you.”

She laughs and playfully smacks his shoulders. “Jerk.”

******

The next morning, he drives them both to work. They’re going to get breakfast together the morning after shift before he heads over to the house and her apartment is on his way. He offers Stella a ride too, to save her the gas, but she politely refuses. He suspects she wants to get in and out of the house as quickly as possible to avoid Severide, but he keeps that suspicion to himself.

He and Sylvie don’t talk about Severide and Kidd and he has a feeling it’s more out of respect for their friend’s privacy than anything else. Besides that, it’s really none of their business. He imagines that at some point one of them will break down and ask about it but it seems for now they’re content to let their friends sort it out themselves.

“Oh! By the way,” Sylvie says, just as they pull up to the firehouse. “Boden finally found a permanent PIC to fill in on third shift. Shay and I won’t be pulling double duty anymore for any prolonged amount of time.”

“Hey! That’s great! No more stumbling home exhausted after a full 48 hours of work with only 24 hours to recover,” Matt replies with relief.

“Yes, thank God,” Sylvie says, reaching for her door handle. 

They both step out and approach the house hand in hand. 

“So, what’s on the agenda at the house tomorrow?” She asks.

“First day of real work on the master bath now that the plumbing’s sorted out. My guys are also coming to replace the HVAC system. It’s getting too cold to go without it now,” he replies.

Her eyes brighten and she leans a little further into him. “Maybe I can help?”

“Maybe you can,” he agrees. “Just not with the master bath.” He smirks at her and squeezes her hand. “You can see it when I’m done.”

“You’re keeping it a surprise?” She asks, looking delighted and intrigued. 

He nods, but adds nothing else about the master bathroom. “I’ll tell you what you can do. You can decide on a plan for the closet. I’m lost on closets so you’d better not leave that decision to me alone. I can do basically anything you want.”

“Isn’t that closet sort of small?”

“It is now,” he tells her with a secretive smirk. “But it won’t be when I’m done. You’ll see tomorrow.”

“If we weren’t on the apron I would so kiss you senseless right now.”

“What? Why?” He asks her with a chuckle.

“I love hearing you talk closets to me. You have no idea.” Her voice is so low and smooth that it’s practically a purr. 

His eyes widen, his eyebrows lift, and a large smile spreads across his face. “Good to know.”

That’s information he can definitely use later.

They head inside and change out. First stop of the day is breakfast. He and Sylvie get plates and sit down next to each other at the middle of the table. Slowly the spots start to fill in around them.

Matt’s just finished eating, holding the paper in one hand while his other arm is slung across the back of Sylvie’s chair, when a newcomer walks into the common room.

“Excuse me,” the woman asks, her eyes landing on him. “Are you Matt Casey?”

“Yeah,” he replies, standing up and walking to meet her. “That’s me. What can I do for you?”

“You can run for alderman,” she replies immediately.

He swears he must have heard her wrong but one look back at Sylvie’s astonished expression and he knows he didn’t. “I’m sorry?”

She looks a bit sheepish and then clarifies. “I get ahead of myself. Um, Tamara Jones,” she says holding her hand out for a shake. “Hi.”

He accepts for a short polite shake. “Hi.”

“I think you should run against Becks for alderman of the 52nd Ward and win.”

That is the last thing he expected to hear _this century_ , let alone today. “Uh, I’ve never done a political thing in my life.”

“Neither have I,” she tells him. “I teach junior high. But I’m over the empty suits in front of the cameras. You, for the tornado victims? That was _real_.”

Well, yeah, but it wasn’t _political_. What would he know about being a politician? “Listen, Tamara, I’m flattered,” he says, hoping he sounds firm but polite. “And I hope you find someone, but...I’m not a politician.”

She’s disappointed. He can tell she’s disappointed, but to her credit she doesn’t get upset. 

“Okay,” she says with a small nod. “Well, thanks for your time.”

He smiles kindly and nods in return. “Sure.”

She waves at the rest of the room and then leaves, leaving stunned quiet in her wake. Matt’s almost afraid to turn around. There’s no telling what 51 will do with that moment.

“Oh man,” Leslie says. She sounds disappointed but looks teasing. “For a second, I thought I might have a chance to embezzle some of that sweet, sweet PAC money.”

The table chuckles at her joke and suddenly he thinks he knows what just happened. “Was that a gag?” He asks. “Did you guys put her up to that?”

No one answers and they’re all saved by the bells as Ambo 61 gets a call. Sylvie squeezes his shoulder as she and Shay sprint toward the rig.

“Don’t hire a campaign manager while I’m gone!” Sylvie shouts over her shoulder. “I would organize the hell out of a good campaign!”

He rolls his eyes and laughs at her retreating form. Campaign manager. Yeah, that’d be the day.

Although, taking down Beck does have it’s appeal. The guy’s a corrupt bastard. He shakes the idea away and goes back to his newspaper. No, the last thing he needs is to get involved in _politics_. 

******

Funny thing though, the idea won’t leave him alone.

First, Cruz has this ridiculous poster made and hangs it up in the common room.

The poster initiates a discussion amongst the entire house about why he should or shouldn’t run. Cruz and Otis think he should. Mouch thinks he shouldn’t. Sylvie says nothing but does glare at Cruz when he won’t leave Matt alone. He’s seen her glare but not many other people have. Joe shrinks back and away as soon as it’s focused on him.

Tamara left a message with Connie to ask him to meet her at a specific address. She promises donuts. 

Sylvie shrugs and runs a hand up his back as she stands next to him at the kitchen sink. “You should do it. Even if you don’t want to run she might say something that we can help her out with instead. You and I both know Becks is only a politician for the perks. Not the work. So, either way, maybe we can pick up his slack.”

He smiles affectionately at her. Kisses the top of her head and then yells across the common room.

“81, we’re taking a ride!” He turns to face Sylvie before saying anything else. “I’ll let you know what she says when we get back.”

“Of course you will,” she says with a cheeky smirk. “You have no other choice.”

He snickers as he pulls away from her and shakes his head.

The address turns out to be a playground -- a run down, covered in trash, slightly perilous playground. Tamara walks across the playground to meet him and hands him a white bakery bag of donuts. “Here you go, thanks for meeting me.”

“Hey, my pleasure,” Matt replies, taking the bag from her. “Thanks for these. A firefighter always loves free food.”

She laughs and nods. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“So, uh, why am I here?” He asks.

“I wanted you to see where the kids in your ward are playing. It’s in violation of about a dozen safety laws. The alderman promised to get us the funds to get it up to code, but you can see how that turned out.”

“Hey, I get it,” Matt agrees, glancing around at the trash that’s littering the ground. “I’ve met Becks. The guy’s a jerk.”

“Not Becks,” she clarifies. “Davis. That’s the alderman before Becks. That’s how long this neighborhood’s been living with broken promises.”

“You seem more cut out for this than me,” he replies, admiring her passion. She’s more educated on what needs to be done than him. 

“That’s because you haven’t seen me put my foot in it,” she tells him with a dry chuckle. “We need a hero not a hothead. The first step is getting a petition with neighborhood signatures. I can get you more than half of what you need,” Tamara promises.

He’s quiet for a moment and she takes that as her cue to leave.

She shakes his hand one last time and nods. “Just think about it.”

He promises he will and watches her walking away, feeling reflective. Could he do it? Could he run for a political office? He likes the idea of making a difference in another area of his life -- a different _kind_ of difference. But there’s a lot of other more annoying things that come with politics that he’s not sure he’d enjoy.

A call comes in and cuts his thinking short. It’s a hazmat call at a floral storage facility with an ammonia cooling system that’s leaked. He and Borelli go in to do a brief initial sweep since there’s a delay with Squad 6. Luckily they find him, but he’s lying in a pool of ammonia. They can’t leave him there for five more minutes. 

He and Jimmy drag him out and get him to the decontamination tent and then get decontaminated themselves. Sylvie makes a beeline to check on him and Jimmy while Shay looks at their victim. It takes her not even five minutes to call it. She gets one good look in his airway and they all can tell she knows that’s the end of it.

“The ammonia burned his trachea. He was gone before you guys ever reached him,” Shay informs them with a grim expression. “Brett, you finish with these guys. I’ll notify his boss.”

Brett nods at the order, sighing deeply before refocusing on him. “You okay?”

He nods. “I’m fine. No harm done.”

She lets her gloved hands cup his face and caresses his cheeks with her thumbs for a short tender moment. “Good.”

The moment ends as quickly as it begins and then she’s back to business -- handing Borelli a blanket to wrap around himself while she treats him next.

******

Thoughts of running follow him off shift. He and Sylvie leave 51, have breakfast, and then she goes with him to work on the house. They finish up early to get ready for Battle of the Badges. He’s done more than enough demo in the bathroom for day one and the new HVAC system was installed quickly and flawlessly. He also found time to show Sylvie how he plans to expand the closet. There’s an extra unfinished storage space behind a flimsy plywood door in the back of the closet. Probably used similarly to an attic space to store holiday decorations and the like. He can tear down the wall dividing the closet from that space, finish it out, and just like that the master bedroom has a walk in closet.

It won’t be huge by celebrity standards, but certainly big enough for him and Sylvie. She’s thrilled and eagerly shares her ideas on how best to arrange shelving and clothing racks. He expects to have a full set of schematics on his nightstand in the morning.

Battle of the Badges is a bit of a disappointment but, then again, when it’s Jimmy versus Antonio what else can you expect? Jimmy goes down in round one and then the rest of the night is a raging party. First at Antonio’s gym to celebrate and then at Molly’s after.

Every now and then questions about whether or not he could run pop up in his mind as he works the day after that. Never anything serious and he dismisses every question as soon as it arises. But still he shouldn’t be contemplating it as much as he is.

It makes the last 24 hours until shift pass too quickly. He knows he’s reaching the point where he’ll have to voice some of his questions out loud, but he knows if he does then that makes his curiosity real. It means the chances of him actually running increase.

Sylvie notices his pensive mood but she doesn’t ask. It’s one of the things he likes most about her. She knows when to push and when to let him come to her.

Truck and Squad get two different calls not long into shift. Eventually they figure out their two calls are one and the same. The father of the kids trapped in the house is the driver who crashed his vehicle. Two of the kids are already in the ambo with Brett and Shay, but the youngest kid and the dad are still inside. 

He and Severide end up sledgehammering a window of glass blocks and cement. Those glass block windows are always a pain to bust open, but they manage it. Thankfully the dad and the kids are okay and stable by the time 61 drives off toward Med.

Once they’re all back in the firehouse, he passes that poster Cruz had made one last time and stops to look at it. Briefly contemplating it before again convincing himself not to go there. He’s busy enough with renovating the house. 

“We can take that poster down now,” he says to the common room before walking into the briefing room.

He takes a moment to stare out the window at the snow, trying not to wonder about running anymore, until Brett appears at the briefing room door.

“You look like you need to talk,” she declares as she shuts the door behind her then sits cross legged on top of the table nearest to him. “In fact, you’ve looked that way for a full two days now. I keep thinking you’ll bring it up, but you don’t.”

“Bring what up?” He asks, trying to feign cluelessness.

She chuckles as he steps closer, leaning one hand on either side of her -- pushing into her space.

“Running for alderman,” she says as if it’s obvious and, now that he thinks about it, maybe it is.

“I don’t really want to run,” he tells her. He’s ninety percent sure that’s a true answer.

“So, you say,” Brett replies with a nod. “But you’re still thinking about it.”

“Wondering if I could do it, more like. If I could actually _be_ a politician. We all know I’d love nothing more than to stick it to Becks but that can’t be my only reason if I were to actually run, you know?”

“I know,” she agrees, but she offers no further advice.

“Do _you_ think I could do it?” He asks. Why is he holding his breath? Is he actually nervous to hear her opinion? What she thinks of him is important and somehow this answer is going to mean _something_ to him. He just doesn’t know what.

She brings her hands up from her lap to frame his face. One hand cards through his hair as she answers him. “I think you can do anything you set your mind to, Matt Casey. And I think if you _chose_ to run you’d do everything you could to make this Ward a better place. But...politics isn’t a clear cut career. Not everyone does it for the save. It’s not like…” she pauses and motions to the room and the building around them. “ _Here_. It’s a lot of _games_. I’m not sure you’d enjoy that part of it.”

He sighs and dips his head up and down as he processes her words. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“I’m not saying don’t do it.” She hastens to clarify. “I want you to do whatever it is _you_ want to do. I’ll support you enthusiastically no matter what. I just think...I just think you need to consider all the angles, first. Mind games, public scrutiny, probably a lot of small talk -- we both know how much you hate that.”

He chuckles at her. “A lot of talking about the weather, huh?”

“I would assume. Not that you’re not charming but you hate useless conversation with strangers.”

She already knows him unnervingly well.

“But,” she says, returning her hands to his hair. “You also care about doing right by people. You won’t get suckered in by money or power. You’re honest and principled in a way a lot of people aren’t these days. You’d be a breath of fresh air to the 52nd Ward, I’m sure. So, there’s good _and_ bad. But none of it has anything to do with doubting your ability to do the job. You’d be a great alderman, if that’s what you really want to do.”

He scoffs and then releases a conflicted sigh. “I don’t know what I want to do. Most of the time I think I don’t want to, but every now and then…”

“You wonder,” Sylvie finishes for him. “Okay, how about this, call Tamara and go talk to her after shift. A one on one lengthy conversation. Ask your questions and see if she has answers. Maybe after a talk with her you’ll know what _you_ want to do.”

He considers that, turns it over in his head for several seconds, and then nods. “Yes, I like that. But only if you come with me.”

She beams at him and agrees instantly. “Of course, I’ll go with you -- if you really want me there, that is.”

“Yes,” he assures her. “I absolutely want you there. I want you with me wherever I go, Sylvie Brett.”

He has _no doubts_ about that.

******

He calls Tamara and asks if she has time to talk to him in the morning. She says she does and they make a plan to meet at her house around nine.

Sylvie stands beside him as he knocks on the door. Once Tamara let’s them inside he introduces her.

“Tamara Jones meet Sylvie Brett, my girlfriend.”

“Very nice to meet you,” Sylvie says as she shakes Tamara’s hand. “You’ve caused quite a bit of talk at the firehouse. Everyone has an opinion on whether or not Matt should run.”

“What about you?” Tamara asks. “Do you have an opinion?”

“I think it’s a tough choice and only Matt knows what he’s really comfortable with,” she replies, honestly.

“Fair enough,” Tamara agrees. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” Sylvie answers, following Tamara deeper into the house. “Caffeine is a must after shift ends.”

They sit down at her small kitchen table. Matt and Sylvie on one side and Tamara on the other. He asks her questions about the ward, why she thinks he of all people can beat Becks, and what she thinks their community needs most in a leader. She’s careful to make all of her answers point back to him. He almost feels obligated to say yes after that but the conversation isn’t done.

Sylvie has a question.

“Let me ask, why search out someone else to run? You seem to know how it’s all going to work. You know the community. You have all the right connections. Why not run yourself?” 

He had indirectly asked this question the last time he and Tamara talked, but she really only gave him half of an answer. He’s curious to hear how she’ll respond to Sylvie.

“I’m a little too hot headed for politics. I tend to not to shut up when I’m passionate and blow right through anyone who stands in my way. You know, sort of a bull in a china shop situation,” Tamara says with a self deprecating laugh.

Sylvie smiles warmly and chuckles along with her, breezily shrugging before she replies. “I don’t know. That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing to me. Being deeply passionate about your causes and your community seems like the good kind of hot headed, if you ask me.”

“The election would be more of an uphill battle with me than with Matt, here,” Tamara says, the corners of her mouth turning down slightly as her expression grows solemn. “The community needs this more than I do. Getting rid of Becks is more important than my vanity.”

Matt sucks in a breath at those words. They hit him like a ton of bricks and suddenly he knows what he has to do. He knows it as sure as he knows what’s in each compartment on 81.

“Tamara,” he says with a slow grin. “Don’t you get it? That’s _exactly_ why you have to run. Sylvie’s right. Being passionate in this situation can only help you and if you’re really wanting this to do what’s best for the ward then... _that’s you_. Not me.”

“What?” She asks in surprise. “No. No way, I--”

“You said you could get over half the signatures you need, right?” Matt asks rhetorically. “51 can get you the rest. We’ll help you every step of the way.”

“Oh! Yes!” Sylvie agrees, with a little hop in her seat. “I would love to help in any way I can! Getting signatures! Making phone calls to get the word out! Volunteering at your campaign events! We’re a very involved bunch at 51. I have no doubt the entire house would be behind you.”

“I’m not--I can’t run!” Tamara exclaims, though she doesn’t look half as determined as she sounds.

“Yes, you can,” Matt assures her. “You can and you should. You’re the best person for the job. You’re already involved in the community. People know you -- they like you. And you’re very determined and persuasive. You nearly had me thinking I had no choice but to run. I might be able to _do_ this job, but you’d _excel_ at it, Tamara. I just know it.”

Sylvie reaches across the table and squeezes Tamara’s hand. “He’s right. And when he’s right, there’s really no use in arguing with him. Trust me.”

Matt scoffs and chuckles and pinches Sylvie’s side. She yelps with a giggle and squirms away from him.

“You see?” She says with a playful glare in his direction. “No arguing with him.”

Silence falls over the room as Matt and Sylvie watch Tamara think through her decision with baited breath. 

She takes a long sip of her coffee and then finally says, “Oh god, I guess I’ll do it. I mean somebody’s gotta show that vacuous mass in a suit who’s boss, right? Why _not_ me?”

“Great!” Matt says with a wide eager smile. “Now, how many signatures are we talking about?”

He wondered if he could be a politician but he’s discovering that really wasn’t what mattered. His own curiosity and pride is not a good enough reason to run. What matters is making sure the right person serves the community. He’s already serving in the way he was meant to -- saving and protecting people on the worst days of their lives. _That’s_ where his focus should be. 

But Tamara has yet to find the way that she could best serve the city and some part of him knows that this role is meant _for her_. He was brought in to help her achieve it.

That’s just what he plans to do.

With a little help of course.


	9. 4x16: A Sight to See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 51 attends the Friends of Firefighters breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** This chapter just flowed right out of me. It’s set after 4x16. In the episode the Friends of Firefighters breakfast is mentioned but in the canon universe it was moved from 51 to Morningside because of the smear campaign against Casey. In my universe Casey isn’t running which means there’s no smear campaign and so the breakfast would still be at 51.
> 
> Which meant, I could write it! So, here it is!
> 
> Hope you like it!
> 
> xoxo
> 
> ******

The Friends of Firefighters breakfast is a monthly event for the CFD, hosted by a different firehouse each month. This time it’s 51’s turn. It’s intended for socialization and peer support but no one’s required to show up. However, it’s expected you show up when it’s your house’s turn to host.

A group of volunteers cook the food and the house is taken out of service for four hours from seven until eleven. The breakfast will take place during first shift this month which means none of them have any real excuse not to attend.

Casey feels especially obligated since Chaplain Orlovsky will be dropping by 51 for the occasion.

Sylvie stays with him at Severide’s the night before to save him time picking her up. He’s still probably at least a month from moving into the house. The master bath is done and he’s moved on to expanding the closet. He had plans drawn up based on the pictures Sylvie sent him and it’s coming along nicely. But for this morning he forces the to-do list to the back of his mind and focuses on the woman sound asleep in his arms.

He glances at the clock on the nightstand. He’s awake an hour earlier than he needs to be so there’s no need to wake Sylvie up. Somehow, she must sense that he’s no longer asleep. Her head rests on his bare shoulder so there must have been a change in his breathing or something else physical.

She yawns, nose scrunching adorably, and then leaves a soft kiss on his collar bone. “Morning.”

“Morning,” he greets before pressing his lips to the top of her head.

This is the first actual conversation they’d been able to have in 24 hours. Sylvie and Stella left shift and headed for a local shelter where they spent eight hours volunteering and then he worked on the house well past dark. They’d both been exhausted when they got home and fallen into bed...early.

That’s probably why they’re awake earlier than they planned.

“Do you think Ogle is going to be at this breakfast?” Sylvie asks, tracing shapes on his chest with her finger. “Because if he is, you’ll want to keep me far away from him. I don’t think me punching him would be a good look for a peer support breakfast.”

Matt lets out a deep throaty laugh and rubs her arm comfortingly. “Don’t worry, if he shows up I’ll be sure to keep him out of reach of your fists.”

“If Leslie ever takes off another shift, I’m stealing Kidd or Borelli, okay? Ogle subbing in was a _nightmare_.”

“I’ll be sure to pass that suggestion on to Boden,” Matt tells her with a grin.

“Hey! How was your thing last shift? That deal you and Tamara talked about? You mentioned it briefly but with everything with the little boy and his dad I don’t think I ever got an update.”

“Good. Tamara made the deal. Police cameras will come down as long as the drugs stay off the two corners by the high school. It was the right call, even if it feels like making a deal with the devil,” Matt replies. “And how’d everything with the boy shake out?”

She releases a guilty sigh and shakes her head against his shoulder. “I think I did a good thing badly.”

“What does that mean?”

“I was so focused on the dad acting strangely and the story not making sense that I forgot to think about the larger motivation.” She gnaws her bottom lip when she’s done and then rolls onto her back to stare up at the ceiling. “That dad kidnapped his son, yes, but he said he did it because the mom is an addict and can’t take care of him.”

“Anybody could _say_ that,” Matt says, turning onto his side and propping himself up on his arm.

Sylvie always wears her heart on her sleeve and he loves that about her, but it means she sometimes brings the burdens of the job home with her. He does too occasionally, but she’s more prone to that than he is. He considers it an honor to be the one to talk it all through with her — to not just see her heart on her sleeve but hear what she’s thinking as well. It means the world to him that she _always_ lets him in.

“Yeah, but yesterday I actually saw her, Matt, and I’ve seen enough addicts and been called to enough overdoses to recognize the signs. She was tweaking. Pinpoint pupils, sunken in eyes, nervous disposition. The dad was right.” She huffs and shakes her head, bringing a hand up to rub her watery eyes. “And I just sent that poor sweet kid right back to her. What’s gonna happen to him now?”

His chest aches at the sound of tears in her voice. He reaches out and takes her hand, pulling it away from her eyes. “What were you supposed to do, Sylvie? Ignore an Amber Alert?”

“I don’t know,” she says, blowing out a ragged breath. “I should have just left it alone. I should have dropped them off and walked away like everyone always tells me to do, and then no one would have known about the Amber Alert at all.”

“Right reason or not, a person can’t _kidnap_ their kid,” Matt reminds her. “That dad was still doing a bad thing. That’s not on you. And with that Amber Alert out there it was only a matter of time before someone else caught them. There was no way he was going to get away with it.”

“But it wouldn’t have been me, at least. I wouldn’t be the one responsible for that little boy being trapped in a bad situation. That mother...oh, I’m still so _pissed_ at her. Kids should be protected, not used as pawns for someone else’s petty bullshit,” she vents, volume raising with every word. Her cheeks are flushed with anger and she bites her lip while rolling back on her side to face him, expression turning sheepish. “I _may_ have called her out.”

He chuckles and grins, wrapping his arms around her to pull her against him. “Why am I not surprised? Protective Sylvie doesn’t show herself very often but she certainly is a sight to see. Like that time your drunk cousin grabbed my ass at your brother’s wedding reception.”

“That was harassment and I don’t care how many glasses of champagne she had, that was _not_ right. I never liked that side of the family anyway. My dad calls them self centered horse thieves and honestly he’s completely right.” She finishes her rant with a small ‘harumph’ noise and a defiant lift of her chin.

He laughs softly and kisses her brow. “Like I said, a sight to see. How did this mom take you at your fiercest?”

“She asked for my name so she could have me fired, and I gave it to her — made sure she knew to spell Brett with two t’s. People always mess that up. And then after we walked away, I reported the entire thing to Maggie who said she’d have Goodwin and DCFS look into it. I am _not_ going to let that little boy stay with someone who might endanger him. No way.”

“Of course not,” he agrees. “That was absolutely the right move.” He reaches a hand up and brushes a wavy blonde strand of hair out of her face. “I know that situation was messier than you wanted it to be, but you shouldn’t have looked the other way. You trusted your instincts and I think you made the right call. Clearly both parents have issues they need to work through. That isn’t your fault. The world isn’t black and white and things get messy. You can only do what you can. No one can ask for more than that.”

“God, I love you. You always somehow know exactly what I need to hear.”

“That’s because I know you better than most,” he tells her, grinning affectionately. “And I love you too.”

“Are you still okay with your choice not to run for alderman?” She asks. “You seemed to enjoy advising Tamara the last couple of weeks.”

“I am. It was the right decision. Tamara’s having to make some tough decisions and play nice with people I’d rather stay far away from. _Playing_ nice has never been my biggest strength. I can do it, but I hate it. I am much happier focusing on 51 and the house,” he admits.

“Good. Then I’m happy as long as you’re happy.”

She kisses the hinge of his jaw and then tucks herself back into him. He glances over at the clock and they still have just over forty-five minutes to kill until they have to get ready.

Now that she’s awake too, he has plenty of ideas about how they can pass the time.

He winds his arm around her waist, getting a sturdy grip on her hip through her thin nightshirt, and then flips them in one fluid motion. She lets out a soft startled yelp and then laughs loudly when she realizes he’s hovering over her with one arm propped up on the mattress.

“How did I not see that coming?” She asks with bright rosy cheeks and eyes that sparkle with mirth.

He releases her hip to hook a hand under her knee and bend her leg around his waist. “Guess I’m just that good.”

“Or that _insatiable_ ,” she replies with a feigned irritated glare.

“That too.”

Her head turns up and to the side as she laughs, giving him a perfect unobstructed view of her neck. How could he waste the opportunity to attack? Her laughter is replaced with a surprised gasping breath as he kisses, sucks, and licks at her pulse point. She arches up into him, pulling herself closer by wrapping her arms around his middle.

“There are definitely worse things to be than insatiable,” she says breathlessly before turning her head and capturing his mouth with hers.

He chuckles into the kiss and then proceeds to lift her nightshirt up and over her head.

Mornings in bed with Sylvie Brett are _always_ his favorite. Their ability to pivot from emotional intimacy to physical intimacy is something unique to only them. He hopes he never has to go another day without it. 

The brief memory of standing outside a building waiting to find out if she was alive or dead intrudes on the moment but he pushes it away. He reminds himself again that, curse or no curse, he won’t let there be a world without her in it and then dives back into the sensations of _her_. He surrounds himself with her, touches every inch of her he can, buries himself inside of her until nothing else exists but this moment in time.

By the time he collapses on top of her later, after they’re both sated and spent, the curse is all but forgotten.

They’re both panting, sweaty, and grinning like fools. He rolls off of her, onto his back, and then turns his head to stare at her. Her hair is wild and her face is flushed, but to him she’s glowing.

“From now on I think we should trade sleep for sex,” he jokes.

A cackle escapes her before she can stifle it with her hand. She shakes her head at him. “We’re both horrible grumps if we don’t get enough sleep and you know it.”

“Who can be grumpy after what we just did?”

“Who would have the energy to do what we just did without sleep?”

“Fair point.”

She playfully rolls her eyes at him and then looks past him to his alarm clock. Her eyes widen and she hurriedly kicks back the covers. “Matt! You made us late!”

He laughs. “Right. Blame me. You were involved too, you know.”

She throws a bath towel at him with a teasing glare. “Go shower. We have forty minutes until we need to leave.”

******

They arrive at 51 twenty minutes later than they planned, but everyone else is late too so it goes unnoticed.

There are more people at the breakfast than he expects. The last one of these he went to wasn’t very crowded at all, but it seems the excitement of the election in their ward has piqued people’s interest.

They want to know if Tamara truly did ask Matt to run and they all seem shocked that he refused. He isn't sure why. He’s not a politician and has never shown any interest in politics. Sure, a few people in the house wanted him to say yes but he never thought anyone else would agree with them.

He and Sylvie make the rounds together. They start with Chaplain Orlovsky and slowly make their way through the other whiteshirts. They sit down to eat, sharing a table with Herrmann, Mouch, and Orlovsky. Afterward, they make the rounds again. This time with members of other firehouses.

They’re all talking about the election. Every member of 51 is bragging about Tamara as often as they can. None of them like Becks and Casey and Brett got them all to promise to help out with the campaign. 

Out of the corner of Casey’s eye he sees a familiar face join the circle. A face he hasn’t seen in three years and really hoped he’d never see again.

“So, she really came to the firehouse and asked you to run?” A paramedic from Firehouse 24 asks.

Matt’s too distracted to answer so Sylvie answers for him, tossing him a brief stange look before she does.

“She did! Marched right into this room,” Sylvie says, motioning around the common room. “Walked right up to Matt, and said ‘I’d like you to run for alderman of the 52nd Ward and win’. She was completely confident and determined and instead Matt ended up turning it around on her. It was brilliant.”

“It’s a good thing she didn’t convince you to run, Casey.”

All heads turned toward the voice and Matt’s fists clench at his sides. Ted Griffin. The bastard he punched out at the academy and the man who insisted on blaming 51 for some missing diamonds a few years back. What the hell is he doing here?

When Matt doesn’t say anything, for fear of telling him to kindly _fuck off_ which would hardly be appropriate in his workplace, Griffin continues.

“Becks would be able run the easiest smear campaign of his career if he were running against you. What with your mom’s jail time and all.”

Okay, fuck appropriate. The first punch kept him away for several years, maybe another would cause a similar effect. Casey takes one step forward, but Sylvie steps in front of him. Placing herself between Matt and Griffin.

“I’m sorry,” Sylvie says with a saccharine smile. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Sylvie Brett.”

She holds out her hand for a shake and Matt stares at her with narrowed eyes. What is she doing?

“Ted Griffin,” the other man says warily, accepting her handshake.

“Well, _Ted_ , I’d like to say it was nice to meet you, but truthfully you seem like a prick.” 

Matt’s eyes widen and he presses his lips together to keep from grinning. Other members of 51 wander over, sensing a show and wanting to watch Ted get his ass handed to him. 

Because Sylvie’s not done. 

She holds her forced overly sweet smile as she releases his hand. “Now that we’ve been introduced, would you mind please leaving our firehouse? This morning is about encouragement and support. If you can’t offer either then there’s no reason for you to be here, is there?”

Ted’s face reddens and he stammers angrily. Sylvie tilts her head, waiting expectantly for him to form words, but eventually she sighs and interrupts him.

“I see I’ve upset you. I would apologize but I’m not the least bit sorry.” She turns to Severide and Cruz, motioning to Griffin with all the poise of a queen. “Would you guys mind waking Ted to his car? He seems to have forgotten where to find the exit.”

Severide smirks at her, amusement clear in his eyes. “Our pleasure, Brett. Come on, Griffin, I think it’s time for you to go.”

Cruz crowds in on Griffin from the other side and both men herd him toward the side door.

Once they’re out of earshot, Kidd and Shay burst out laughing while Sylvie looks more enraged than he’s ever seen her.

“Who the hell does that guy think he is?” She asks in a harsh whisper. “If we weren’t in the Firehouse right now I would be giving that asshole a piece of my mind! _The nerve_ to try and embarrass you in front of all these people, I—“

He interrupts her with a kiss to her temple and a soft chuckle. “I wanted to punch him but _that_ was much more satisfying. Thank you.”

She huffs in mild irritation. “Who was that guy?” 

Her anger slowly fades as he places his hand on the small of her back and rubs a soothing circle. “A guy I went to the Academy with. He’s always been a dick. Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about it?” She asks incredulously. “How can you say that?”

“With you as my guard dog I doubt he’ll be back anytime soon,” he quips with a smirk. “That was impressive.”

“The politeness made it ten times more terrifying than it should have been,” Otis adds with wide fearful eyes. “I’d hate to hear what you would have said if you’d run into him on the street.”

“It would have been a lot more _colorful_ , I assure you,” Brett mutters through gritted teeth.

Matt lowers his lips to the shell of her ear to whisper, pride and gratitude filling him till it nearly overflows. “Protective Brett is a sight to see _for sure_. As soon as this is over we are going straight home and we’re not leaving for the rest of the day.”

Her angry flush turns into a bright red _blush_ that spreads from her hairline to the collar of her v-neck shirt. “ _Oh_. Okay.”

He’s never had anyone step in to defend him like that before. In fact, he’d never really wanted anyone to step in. His problems are his problems. He doesn’t want anyone else getting caught in the crossfire.

But Sylvie never gave him a choice. She took on his problems without waiting for him to ask. For someone like him, who’s relied on himself most of his life, it’s _astonishing_.

How the hell did he manage to snag her? He has no game, no real accomplishments, no claim to greatness. There’s nothing in his life to tell him what exactly he did to win her over, but he’s glad she picked him anyway. 

He doesn’t deserve her but he’s sure as hell never letting her go.


	10. 4x18: Stop Worrying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvie responds to a call and ends up in serious danger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** So, this one shot is LONG. This sort of 4x17 and 4x18 but mostly 4x18. 4x18 is a BIG episode for Sylvie which means in this universe it involves Matt now too. 
> 
> Hopefully you guys will enjoy what I’ve done with this episode!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo
> 
> PS - I took some cold medicine and just as I finished this I got very drowsy so I didn’t proofread it very well. If you spot typos, please excuse them. I’ll give it a proper proofread when I’m not drugged up.
> 
> ******

Tamara won.

She _won_! 

51 had spent the week making phone calls on her behalf and talking her up to everyone they could and the vote turned out to be a landslide victory. It seems everyone else in their ward is sick of Becks too.

Sylvie catches a ride back home with Stella. She stayed later at the victory party than Matt. He says he has carpet guys coming around lunch and has to be up early to rip out the existing carpet upstairs. It’s the finishing touch to the closet as well as the first step to finishing the second floor.

All the upstairs bedrooms are going to have the same carpeting so he’s replacing it all at one time. The more floor space he does at once, the better deal he can get he says.

So, tonight it’s just her and Stella.

“You spent an awful lot of time with Severide this week,” Sylvie says as they settle into her couch.

They have glasses of wine and some fancy cheeses left over from Tamara’s party. Sylvie’s already pretty tipsy so cheese is a necessity unless she wants to end up totally sloshed.

“He had a rough one this week. You know? With Courtney? And that detective and Boden were on his case. I don’t know. I just thought he needed a little support that’s all,” Stella replies before giving Sylvie a stern glance and pointing a finger at her. “It does not mean we’re back together! It just means we’re almost friends.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“No, but you were hoping it.”

“Well, yeah, I want you both to be happy, but it’s none of my business so I’ve been staying out of it. And I plan to keep staying out of it unless you ask me for advice,” Sylvie promises.

“Thank you,” Stella says, trying to shut the door on the topic. 

But Sylvie’s not ready to move on yet. She bites her bottom lip, letting the wine encourage her possibly invasive question.

“Are you in love with him?” Sylvie asks.

Stella mulls over the question, swirling the wine in her glass and staring into it as if it contains all the answers.

She sighs and shrugs. “I can’t be. Not if he’s not in love with me too.” She grabs a cracker and a piece of cheese, nervously nibbling before continuing. “So, we’re just friends. That’s all we can be right now and, you know, maybe it’s for the best.”

Stella’s eyes are watering and she’s blinking repeatedly. Sylvie knows the signs of trying not to cry. She’s been there numerous times herself.

“Oh, Stella,” Sylvie says as she sets her wine glass down and wraps her arms around her. “It’ll be okay.”

Stella nods and returns Sylvie’s hug just as tightly. “It will?”

“Yes, of course. You’re right,” Brett says as she pats her back. “It probably is for the best right now. Sometimes a relationship needs a little space to see it for what it really is or what you want it to be and sometimes one person just isn’t ready yet. That’s okay because either way you have me and you have Shay. We’re always gonna root for you and whatever you think will make you happy.”

“I love you,” Kidd mutters. “Seriously, the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Sylvie chuckles and pulls back to look at her. “I love you too.” She dabs at the water in the corner of her own eyes and then releases Stella to grab a slice of cheese. “I’m turning into a weepy drunk. I need calories immediately.”

“Girl, same,” Stella says with a soggy laugh.

“Wanna watch something stupid on Netflix and eat our body weight in ice cream?”

“Oh my god, you read my mind,” Kidd answers, jumping up from the couch and sprinting to the kitchen. “I call the cookie dough!”

“Hey! No fair!”

“Single friend chooses first! That’s the rules!”

******

Sylvie wakes up mid morning the next day, groaning in pain. Her phone is ringing from her nightstand. She answers it just to get the ringing to stop. It’s pounding against her skull like the bells at 51.

Thank God they don’t have shift until tomorrow.

She and Stella definitely drank too much last night.

“Hello?”

There’s a wince on the other end. “You sound miserable.”

“It’s my own fault. Too much alcohol, not enough actual food.”

Matt chuckles softly. “Well, that’s too bad. I was gonna see if you wanted to meet me for lunch.”

“I love you, but I’m not moving. Not even for you. I’m gonna take some Tylenol, drink some coffee, eat like a whole plateful of bacon, and then go right back to bed.”

“Understandable. Did you and Kidd at least have fun?” He asks.

“We did. We yelled at old episodes of The Bachelor and probably ate two huge cartons of ice cream between the two of us.”

“And drank how many bottles of wine?”

“It wasn’t the wine that did us in. It was the bubblegum flavored Vodka.”

“The what?” Despite feeling like garbage and the headache from hell she can definitely hear the horror in Casey’s voice.

“I hate straight vodka, you know that. And it’s not as bad as it sounds. Stella liked it.”

“I’m sure she did,” he replies, but he doesn’t sound convinced. “I’ll bring you dinner after I finish up here for the day. Stella too. Something greasy. You’ll need it.”

“Bless you,” Sylvie says before she yawns.

She can hear the fondness in his voice as he responds. “Take it easy, get some rest, and call me if you need anything. Love you.”

“You know I will. Love you too.”

She hangs up with Matt and not even a minute later her bedroom door bursts open. Stella leans against her door frame, casually sipping a cup of coffee. The only sign that their drinking is affecting her are her bloodshot eyes and traces of smeared matte lipstick. Matte lipstick is the _worst_ to get off after you’ve slept in it. She has her phone in her other hand, reading over her text messages.

“Shay’s mad we got drunk without her. I told her it’s her own fault because Rafferty has her _whipped_. She’s turned into one half of an old married couple practically overnight. I mean you’re in a relationship but at least I can drag you away from Casey if I need to.”

“Go back to bed,” Sylvie orders. “It’s too early.”

“It’s nearly eleven.”

“Like I said, too early. How are you not more hung over?”

“I ate more cheese than you and had less bubblegum vodka. Get up, take a shower, I’ll make breakfast, and then you’ll feel more human,” Kidd promises. “Come on, Brett. Up and at’em.”

She hates it, but it turns out Stella is right. After showering and eating she does feel more human. They take it easy, per her promise to Matt, and lounge on the couch all day watching crappy reality television.

That evening, the lock twists and turns and Matt walks in, balancing a pizza box on one hand.

“Evening, ladies,” he says. “How are the hangovers?”

“Oh, mine was never a problem,” Stella tells him, getting up from the couch and taking the pizza box from him. “Your girlfriend’s the lightweight. Not me.”

“Gee, thank you, Stella.”

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em. You guys mind if I go ahead and grab a slice while you flirt?”

Matt snorts through a laugh and nods. “Please, help yourself.”

“How was work?” Sylvie asks as he sits down on the couch next to her.

“Good,” he replies, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. “We got a lot done. Master bath, closet, master bedroom all done and ready to go. I think I’m gonna move in after next shift. The kitchen needs work but it’s got a microwave, a working sink, and a coffee maker. That’s all I need for the time being.”

“What about a fridge?” She asks in concern.

“I’ve got a mini fridge in my storage unit. It’ll do for now.”

Her nose scrunches up in distaste. “So, you’re gonna live off of microwave dinners and take out until the kitchen’s finished?”

“It’ll take me less time to finish the kitchen if I’m working on it in all my down time, and Shay can get started on her fostering plan. I feel bad that it's on hold because of me. That process takes months and she needs to get going on it already, even if she refuses to kick me out.”

“You are the sweetest,” Sylvie tells him with a proud smile and a kiss to the cheek. “Just for that I’ll bring you some meals to reheat that you can keep in your _mini fridge_.”

“Are you guys ever gonna come get a slice because I can’t promise I won’t eat this whole damn pie by myself,” Stella yells from the kitchen.

Matt rolls his eyes and drops a casual kiss to Sylvie’s temple. It gives her a warm and fuzzy sensation from her head to her toes. “I’ll get yours. You stay put,” Matt insists.

She truly did hit the jackpot with him. How did she ever get so lucky? Honestly, it’s a mystery. Traditionally, her luck was incredibly awful, but this one time with this one person lady luck decided to favor her. She couldn’t be more grateful if she tried.

******

Sylvie should have known she was in for one hell of a shift the minute her alarm went off. She reached out to hit snooze and knocked her water cup all over the bed. She woke Matt up with her cursing and nearly dumped all the water on her phone. Thankfully, she picked the phone up quick enough that she avoided having to shove it in a bag of rice for a day.

But the text waiting for her on the screen was hardly encouraging.

_“Woke up with a killer migraine. Told Chief I’d be out and under no circumstances was he allowed to call Ogle. He’s loaning you Borelli for the day. You’re welcome.”_

She groaned and stomped over to her closet, shoving her clean uniform and iPad into her bag. Matt hadn’t even moved except to sit up and rest his back against the headboard.

“What happened?” He asked with a furrowed brow.

“Shay called out and I spilled water all over my freaking bed. We’re off to a great start.”

Casey quirked one brow at her and smirked. He stood from the bed, half dressed in just his boxers and crossed the room to her. His arms encircled her from behind and he pressed his lips to the side of head. 

“Breathe,” he reminded her. “The day’s barely started. I’m sure you’ll turn it around. Did Boden bring in Ogle?”

“No, you're gonna be light on Truck. I get Borelli today.”

“See?” He said with a chuckle. “It’s already looking up.”

Except, it didn’t stay that way. Sure, arriving at the house was fine. They got there on time. Everyone was in good spirits except for Mouch -- writing wedding vows is apparently very stressful. Borelli brought her a half-calf latte to suck up. (Not that he needs to but the gesture was still very nice.) 

But their first call has to be a mysterious man down call in a shady neighborhood that quickly evolves into a GSW and an official crime scene. Of course this happens on a day she’s in charge and can’t look to Shay for guidance. 

“I’m gonna wrap up the leg,” she tells Borelli. “You get the stretcher and call dispatch. Let ‘em know this is a crime scene.” 

“You got it,” Jimmy replies before running off toward the ambo. 

She’s in the middle of packing and wrapping the wound when a man approaches them with a determined stride and a withering stare. Before she even has a moment to register what’s happening, he’s pulling out a gun and firing three rounds into her patient.

She jumps away and tries to shield herself from any possible blowback. She starts to crawl away from him but she doesn’t get very far before his gun is aimed at her head.

 _Fuck_. Is he going to kill her? She doesn’t want to die alone below a dirty overpass and especially not before she gets a chance to live in that beautiful house Matt’s working on.

“Gimme your ID,” the gunman says with a glowering stare.

“What?” 

She speaks mostly out of shock but he seems to take it as resistance and cocks the gun -- causing her pulse to skyrocket and her heartbeat to stutter. No, no, no, _no_!

“Gimme your ID!” He yells.

She scrambles to rifle through her coat pocket and simply hands him her entire wallet, too terrified to try and pull out the ID by itself. Her hands are shaking and she’s all but ceased breathing. The gun hasn’t moved from where he’s aimed it at her head.

“Not a word, _Sylvie Brett_ ,” he sneers.

And then he stalks off in the direction that he came, shoving her wallet into his jacket pocket.

She doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. She’s petrified. 

Her patient is likely dead and if she tells the cops what she knows she will be too. But how does she not _tell the cops_? She has to! But if she does…

She really doesn’t want to die.

Oh God, _what is she supposed to do now_?

Borelli reappears with the stretcher and a backboard but Sylvie hasn’t even registered what he said to her or moved a single muscle. She’s still frozen in that moment where her life was literally threatened for her silence.

Jimmy must finally notice that their patient has a few more bullet holes than he did before because he stops talking and very slowly asks, “What the hell happened here?”

“He just ran up,” she says, feeling dazed and confused and a little lightheaded.

“Who?” Jimmy barks, with urgent concern written across his face.

Before she can answer their patient cries out and coughs up blood, instantly bringing Sylvie back to the present. “Oh my God.”

She forgets herself and stares at him for a moment, hardly believing he’s still alive. Jimmy says something but again she barely hears him, until he speaks a second time.

“Sylvie! The gauze!”

Jesus, get it together, Brett. Do your damn job! She pulls herself out of it, hands still shaking and her voice still quavering. Handing Jimmy the gauze, she says, “We gotta get him out of here.”

They get him on the backboard and the stretcher and to the ambo. She directs Jimmy to drive and gets in the back to treat the patient. She keeps him stable until the moment they reach Med when he suddenly arrests. She does her best to revive him but he’s lost too much blood and he’s gone before they can unload the stretcher.

While they drop off the body, she tells Jimmy what happened. Every detail she can remember while tears build in her eyes. She refuses to let them fall. No murderer deserves her tears. Besides, she’s embarrassed enough about her conduct on the scene itself. She completely lost herself in her fear. She was so deeply in shock that Jimmy had to take over with the patient. Jimmy who’s only filling in on Ambo. She was supposed to be leading today and she failed.

“You need any help?” Jimmy asks as she’s trying and failing to fill out the paperwork in the ED.

She shakes her head at him and then he shouts over her shoulder to get April’s attention. “Are the cops here yet?” He asks.

“I haven’t seen them,” she replies.

How did this happen to her? She’s a witness to a murder and the murderer not only saw her face but has her address. “He knows where I live,” she mutters, more to herself than to Jimmy. “What am I gonna do?”

Should she call Matt? Boden? What are the protocols in this case? She has no idea. She doesn’t remember ever being trained for this. She’s panicking and scared and every bit of knowledge she so carefully studied about worst case scenarios has vanished from her memory.

“The cops’ll be here soon,” Jimmy assures her. “They’ll know what to do.”

She doesn’t question it when Jimmy says it. He’s a good guy with a solid head on his shoulders and he’s probably right. It’s best to just wait on the cops. Talk to _them_ first. That makes sense.

Maggie and April let them wait in the Doctor’s lounge because it’s taking forever. She’s getting more and more anxious with every minute that passes and less and less confident the longer they make her wait. Right now, all she wants is Matt. Jimmy’s fine, but Matt’s the guy that makes her feel safe and protected. If Matt were here he’d know exactly what to do and how to handle this.

All at once she’s flooded with guilt.

She should have called Casey. What was she thinking? She shouldn’t be standing here waiting on the cops. She should be on the phone with Casey letting him tell her the next steps.

God, she’d already screwed this up. Why couldn’t she keep her head on straight? Fear is no reason for her to lose her head. Where did the Sylvie who was kidnapped by Lullo’s goons go? Or the Sylvie who stood up to Early? The one who yelled at a gun wielding addict and told him to shoot her? Where did she go all of a sudden?

Why is she failing so spectacularly at being strong?

“There he is,” Borelli says pointing through the glass doors.

She follows his finger to a cop that looks too young to actually be a cop. He’s got the babiest of baby faces. “That’s him?” she asks. “Doesn’t look like he’s been out of the Academy for more than a year. I’m supposed to put my life in his hands?”

Is it wrong of her to expect someone more like Jay, Antonio, or Ruzek? Honestly, she doesn’t even care. She wants someone she _trusts_.

“We could always go to Antonio first,” Borelli suggests. “He would know the best way to protect you.”

No. No more suggestions. She’s doing what _she_ wants to do. She’s not letting her fear cause her to doubt herself. She wants Matt so she’s calling Matt.

She huffs and then gulps. “No, I’ll talk to this guy, but first I’m calling Casey. I should have called him the minute we stepped foot in Med. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

Borelli looks as if he wants to object but he doesn’t. He simply nods and steps out of the room.

“I’ll talk to the cop first and give you some privacy.”

“Thanks,” she mutters as she pulls her phone out of her coat pocket. As much as she craves Matt, she’s also dreading this. She knows exactly how protective he can be and while _she’s_ scared, she doesn’t want him to be. But there’s no way to avoid it. She _needs_ him.

She takes a deep breath and dials his number, closing her eyes as she brings the phone to her ear. She focuses on calming her heartbeat and her skittering pulse. The water that had been pooling in her eyes slips out under her closed lids and long lashes. For the sake of her pride and professionalism, she’d kept herself from crying in front of Borelli but now she’s alone and the tears fall all on their own.

“Sylvie?” Matt answers after one ring. “Everything okay? You and Borelli have been gone a long time.”

She can hear the worry in his voice. He noticed their unusually long absence and had probably been waiting for this call for at least a half hour. God, why hadn’t she called him sooner?

“I--no, Matt, everything’s not okay. Something happened on that man down call and I don’t know what to do. I’m scared and scatterbrained and I can’t--I can’t think straight.”

“Okay,” Matt says, voice dropping into a low soothing register. “Just take a couple of deep breaths and then walk me through it. What happened? Are you hurt?”

She does as he asks and takes a few more fortifying breaths, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. “No, I’m not hurt but I’m definitely in danger. I’m at Med so I’m safe for the moment but...a man walked up and shot my patient and I saw his face, Matt. He took my ID--he knows where I _live_. He told me to keep my mouth shut but I can’t. I _can’t_ not tell the cops. I don’t know what to do.”

Silent tears are streaming down her cheeks now and she angrily wipes them away. She’s stronger than this. She should not be crying. She will not let this criminal get the better of her.

For several seconds all she hears is Matt’s breathing. It’s harsh and heavy. Just based on that alone she can picture his face. Eyes ablaze, jaw locked, brow wrinkled in a livid expression.

“Don’t leave Med,” he orders. “You stay right where you are. Boden and I are coming to _you_. Is that clear?”

She expected him to be angry, but he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds _afraid_.

“Sylvie? Please tell me you heard me,” he says beseechingly. “I need you to stay put until we get there.”

She nods and then realizes he can’t see her. God, she’s _stupid_ today. “Yes, I heard you. I’m not leaving. I promise. There’s a patrolman here now. I can give my statement while I wait.”

“Good,” he says with a relieved sigh. “Boden and I will be there in no more than twenty minutes.”

“Okay,” she says in a voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s gonna be alright,” Matt says reassuringly. “Do you believe me?”

“I always believe you,” she swears. “Always.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” she answers, wiping away another tear with her coat sleeve.

Hanging up with him proves difficult. She doesn't want to let him go but the sooner she does the sooner he’ll be here _with her._ As she hangs up, Jimmy steps back inside with the baby faced patrolman behind him. She smiles weakly at him and thanks him for coming but still doesn’t put much faith in him.

She gives her statement, trying to think through every detail as clearly as she can. She’s almost finished when Boden and Casey come sprinting through the ED heading for the lounge. Matt runs straight to her, ignoring the patrolman and skidding to a stop directly in front of her. His hands grab her arms and slide up and down while his eyes search her face. He’s assessing her for injuries as if April and Maggie wouldn’t have nagged her into an exam room if she’d been the slightest bit harmed.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”

She shakes her head. “No. Not a scratch. He just threatened me, he didn’t touch me.”

“Brett,” Boden says with a stern glare. “For future reference, you call _me_ and then you call Casey or the cops. Is that understood? I am your first call when you’re on the job. I am _always_ your first call.”

She pulls him a shaky breath but nods. “Yes, Chief. Of course. I’m--I’m sorry. It all happened so fast and we had a patient--”

“I understand,” Chief says, softening his tone but not his expression. “But if you’re ever in a dangerous situation like this again, _you call me_. Copy?”

“Copy that,” she replies.

“Voight is sending Halstead,” Boden tells her. “Antonio is unreachable but Halstead is a couple of blocks away.” Boden then turns to the patrolman. “You’ll be getting orders soon to wait for Detective Halstead and then hand off your field notes. No offense, I’m sure you’re a fine officer, but we know Halstead.”

“I understand, sir,” the young officer says with a brisk nod. “I’ll wait outside.”

“Borelli,” Boden says as the patrolman leaves. “Get 61 back to the house. I’m taking it out of service until PD weighs in on this.”

“You got it, Chief,” Jimmy squeezes Brett’s shoulder and nods at Casey before heading outside to the rig.

“Now,” Boden says, glancing between Brett and Casey. “I am going to be just outside the door and will not see or hear anything that happens in this lounge once I close the door. As far as I’m concerned it’s none of my business. I’ll keep an eye out for Halstead and let you know when he arrives.”

“Thanks, Chief,” Matt says with a stiff nod.

As soon as the door closes behind Boden, Matt pulls her into his arms. “Jesus, Sylvie. When you guys were gone so long for one call I was worried but I never would have expected--” He cuts off his own sentence and kisses her temple softly. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

She holds him tighter and lets out a shuddering breath, her chin trembling as she speaks. “I thought he was going to kill me, Matt. I truly thought--He shot three rounds into my patient with no hesitation and then turned the gun on me. I thought I was going to die alone under an overpass. I was so terrified I couldn’t even move afterward. I just sat there, frozen. Jimmy had to take over the scene. _Jimmy_.” His fingers land on her neck and massage her tense muscles and she nearly whimpers at the comfort it offers her. “I messed up.”

“Are you kidding me?” Matt asks, protective outrage in his tone. “You didn’t mess up. You got yourself, the patient, and Jimmy out of there. That was the most important thing. We can deal with the rest. You didn’t mess up. You had a human reaction to danger, Sylvie. That’s completely understandable. Christ, if you had done anything differently he might have _actually_ shot you and I don’t know that I would have been able to deal with that. So, no, if you ask me you didn’t mess up. The only way you could have messed up is if you’d done something reckless and gotten yourself shot. You hear me? That’s the _only_ way you could have messed up.”

She nods against his neck and then sinks into his hold. His fingers are still massaging her neck and it’s slowly but surely bringing her walls down. She leans all of her weight into him and he holds her closer to keep them both upright. It’s that gesture that for some reason finally allows her to register his presence. He’s right there with her and she’s _finally_ safe.

There’s no stopping her tears after that. Matt doesn’t care if she cries. He doesn’t judge her for it. She _hates_ crying but sometimes a situation calls for it and this is one of those times.

Boden knocks softly at the door, indicating Halstead’s arrived. Sylvie wipes her cheeks and pulls herself together as much as she can before Boden and Halstead join them.

She’s not even four hours into this shift and she’s already exhausted.

******

Halstead had gotten the gist of the story from Voight even before he reviewed the patrolman’s field notes. He brought a photo array with him and had Sylvie look over it.

Matt and Boden stood back and watched.

Boden turned to Matt and spoke quietly. “How are you holding up?”

He swallows thickly and rubs a hand through his hair. “Well, I have this insane urge to lock her in a safe location and never let her out. Which I can’t do because she’d dump my ass in a split second — for the record that would be a smart move. She’s already run away from a situation like that once. I just...I _can’t_ lose her. I _can’t_.”

“And you won’t,” Boden declares. “We’re going to keep her safe. All of us.”

Sylvie hands the iPad back to Jay, having zoomed in on one picture. “That’s him.”

“Him?” Jay asks with obvious worry. “This is the guy that threatened you?”

“I’m never forgetting that face. Trust me, it was him.”

“This guy’s a seriously bad dude, Sylvie. Practically sociopathic,” Jay tells her with a solemn expression.

“Who is he?” Matt asks.

“Dale Kjorven,” Jay replies. “He’s extremely dangerous. We ID’d your gunshot victim. He was part of a crew from Detroit. They were here to do a job that went sideways and now apparently Kjorven is on the warpath.”

Boden crosses his arms over his chest protectively. “So, what do we do?”

“We’re putting officers on her while we work on flushing him out. No way we can let him get that close to her ever again,” Jay says, patting Sylvie’s back and pulling out his phone. “Brett, I’m going to need you to go back to the firehouse and stay there. I’ll send a patrol car to 51. You don’t go anywhere without them until we get this guy.”

She nods in acknowledgment but her face is drawn and her coloring is pale. Matt takes that as his cue to make his way back to her. He steps up behind her, placing a hand on her hip, and she immediately leans back into his chest.

“We’ll get her back to the house,” Matt promises. “Don’t worry.”

“Thank you,” Boden says as he shakes Jay’s hand.

“Of course,” Halstead replies. “We’ll be in touch.”

After he leaves, the three of them walk back to Boden’s buggy. Matt loads in the back with Sylvie, knowing she’ll need support. She keeps quiet the entire ride back to the house, but never once lets go of his hand. Her face blank and her eyes are unfocused. She’s lost in her own head. He tried to reassure her at the hospital but he isn’t sure it’s enough to ward off her fear. Hell, he’s not sure it’s enough to ward off _his_ fear.

By the time they get back to the house, news about what happened has already spread. They can tell everybody has questions and concerns but before anyone addresses them, Matt wants to talk to Sylvie again. She’s withdrawn inward and he wants to know what’s going on in her head.

They’re stepping into the house and he’s gently leading her in the direction of his quarters, but not even five steps into the journey the bells go off.

The call is for everyone but 61 since ambo is currently out of service. Matt reluctantly leaves Sylvie at the firehouse with Borelli. The patrolmen haven’t arrived yet but there’s not much he can do to avoid leaving her. He has a job to do.

He kisses the top of her head before he leaves and tells her to make herself comfortable in his quarters if she wants and then sprints off toward 81.

The call turns out to be a fire that spreads quickly and burns big. It’s an old bank building turned restaurant and bar. They were people trapped in the old bank vault. Because of the fire burning so rapidly, Severide was nearly barbecued trying to open the vault door.

They get everyone out and Severide treats his own burn on scene. But Matt can’t stop thinking about how quick the building went up. During overhaul he takes it upon himself to find out why.

Which he does and, as a contractor, the reason infuriates him. 

Polystyrene insulation. Any decent contractor would have used rock wool or fiberglass. Only someone trying to save a buck by doing cheap shoddy work would use polystyrene. The city’s been trying to ban it for years.

He tells Severide as they arrive back at the house and then forces himself not to investigate it further. He’ll put it in his report and let the city handle it. 

He quickly changes out of his gear. They’ve been gone for hours and he wants to get back to Sylvie. He spotted the patrol car outside as they pulled up to 51 so her detail is in place. That alone offers him some relief from his worry, but not much.

He finds Sylvie lying on his cot, her back facing the door. He sits on the edge of the mattress and rubs a hand across her back. She turns and faces him with a wan smile.

“Hey,” she says softly. “How was the call?”

“Electrical fire and shoddy construction work,” he answers briefly. “It burned fast but we got everyone out. Severide’s a little crispier than he used to be but he’ll live.”

She chuckles quietly at his joke and nods. “Good.”

“I saw your CPD detail outside. Are you okay, really?”

“I’m still processing, honestly,” she admits. “A part of me feels like I had a nightmare and none of this has actually happened and then another part of me still feels embarrassed and stupid for floundering for so long. I should have called Boden straight away, I should have been able to treat the patient, I should have been able to _save_ the patient--”

“Okay, stop,” Matt interrupts, with a fond but stern glance. “We covered this. You did exactly what you _should_ have done. Yes, Boden’s upset you called me instead of him and that it took you several hours to do it, but he understands why and he’s mostly upset at himself for not being able to protect you. You have nothing to feel embarrassed or stupid about, Sylvie. This is an intense situation and uncharted waters for all of us. A little floundering is expected. All any of us, especially me, care about is that you’re alive and you’re safe and we keep you that way.” He leans forward, closing the small amount of distance between them and rests his brow against hers, letting his eyes drift shut as he talks. “I am not losing you because some crew from Detroit botched a robbery attempt. No fucking way. You kept yourself alive and came back to me. That is all I’m ever going to want you to do.”

He feels her hands come up to frame his face as his voice cracks over a few of his words, emotions clogging his throat. Today was nearly his worst nightmare come to life, _again_. He keeps trying to assure himself that losing Sylvie the way he lost Hallie and Gabby isn’t inevitable but it’s hard to believe when the Universe keeps reminding him of his worst case scenario time and time again.

As ridiculous as it sounds, he begins to ponder why Sylvie keeps narrowly escaping these life and death situations. If he is cursed, which he is not, what is the key to avoiding it? 

Where is the loophole?

“That’s all I’m ever going to want too, Matt,” she replies, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. “For you too. Just having you with me at the end of the day is enough.”

“I’m going home with you after shift,” he tells her, leaning into her touch.

“But I thought you were going to move into the house after shift? Matt, don’t delay your plans for me. I’m going to have officers on me 24/7--”

“It’s just furniture deliveries and moving my clothes, Sylvie. I’m sure I can find someone who can be there to sign for the deliveries and my clothes can wait. I have plenty of time to move in. I’d rather be with you,” he replies earnestly. “I _want_ to be with you.”

He opens his eyes to find her cataloguing every inch of his face as if she’s trying to read his thoughts. Finally, she smiles warmly and nods. “Okay. If you really don’t mind then I would appreciate that.”

“I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else anyway,” he tells her. “So, no, I don’t mind. That’s why I said it.”

He’s not wasting a minute with her and he’s not taking any chances that someone else could protect her any better than _he_ could. She’s the most important thing and she takes priority over anything else.

******

The next night, things continued to escalate. 

While they were having dinner in Sylvie’s living room and watching repeats of some cheesy sitcom Matt barely remembers, Sylvie’s phone rang. She answered and then hung up, looking like she’d seen a ghost.

The sight of her pale face and wide frightened eyes will be burned into his memory for however long he lives. Kjorvin found Sylvie’s phone number and threatened her life. Matt immediately called Halstead and Boden. They increased Sylvie’s protection to two patrol cars instead of one and suggested that she and Stella find somewhere else to stay temporarily.

Matt had asked Severide to oversee the delivery of the new bedroom furniture so he made a decision. Stella would stay in Matt’s old bedroom at Severide and Shay’s and he and Sylvie would stay in the house. Yes, the kitchen was only a quarter of the way done, but there’s no way Kjorvin would ever find that address associated with Sylvie.

Which means, despite telling her moving in could wait, he ended up moving in anyway.

He’d grabbed enough of his clothes while dropping Stella off to last him a week. Luckily, the half finished basement was going to remain half finished and had washer and dryer connections so that had been one of the first things to be completed in the new house. He’d gotten his washer and dryer from the condo out of storage and had them hooked up after the plumber and the electrician had gone over the pipes and the wiring. So, if this Kjorvin situation dragged on and he ran out of clothes he wouldn’t necessarily have to go back for more.

Having Sylvie stay with him at the house also meant she was going to see the master bath earlier than he intended. He’d splurged a little on it, but Sylvie had jokingly mentioned features she felt any good bathroom should have and he couldn’t resist giving her the bathroom she daydreamed about.

Besides, it is the master bath. The master bath should always be impressive in his opinion. Not only that, but Sylvie could use cheering up right now and he had a feeling this bathroom would do the trick.

And maybe the closet too, if he knows her the way he thinks he does.

They stopped and got Chinese food on the way to the house so the first thing he does is set that down on the kitchen counter (that still needs to be pried up and replaced). And then he turns to take Sylvie’s duffle bag from her.

“I know you hate to be forced from your apartment,” he tells her. “But I have something to show you that will hopefully make all of this a little less upsetting.”

Her face instantly brightens as a hopeful smile spreads across her lips. “Oh?”

He nods, shouldering her bag himself, and then slips his hand to hers as he tugs her toward the stairs. “Come on.” They reach the top of the stairs and he stops, dropping her hand. “Okay, cover your eyes.”

“What?” 

“It’ll be like all those dramatic reveals you like on those remodeling shows you watch. Trust me,” he explains. “Cover your eyes.”

She narrows her eyes on him warily in a moment of hesitation but brings her hands to her eyes. He slips behind her, with his hands on her shoulders, and guides her through the entryway to the master bedroom and then through the room to the open door of the master bath. He stops there, squeezing her shoulders one time.

“Now you can look,” he instructs, nervously holding his breath.

She brings her hands down from her eyes and gasps, leaning back against his chest and bringing her hands up to his as they rest on her shoulders. “Matt! This is gorgeous!”

He sighs in relief and squeezes her hands before releasing her shoulders so she can walk around the space. It’s not an overly large bathroom, but he’d taken a lot of care in figuring out the best way to organize the space.

Walking through the door, they face the matching his-and-hers sinks that gleam white with matte black faucets. He spent a good chunk of money on the quartz countertops and rectangular cut basins, but the fresh and modern look was worth it. It gives the bathroom a more rustic look that works well with the new cabinets that he painted a shade of forest green. 

Sylvie’s style isn’t overly feminine. She tends to lean more toward a farmhouse style with nature inspired colors. He took a chance on the forest green, but thought it balanced the black faucets and cabinet hardware without being too dreary or dark.

The walls are white and the floor is covered black and white honeycomb shaped tiles. To the left of the sinks is a door that leads directly to the closet and next to it is the glass shower stall with a dual shower head. It’s part rain shower and part handheld unit. To the right of the sinks is the commode but a few feet in front of it is, what Matt considers, the crown jewel.

A black stand alone flat bottom tub with white interior and a black matte freestanding faucet to match all the other fixtures. Behind it he’d put up an accent wall using wall paper from a sample Sylvie had idly admired while she helped him pick out paint for the master bedroom. It featured sprigs of olive branches in different whimsical patterns in the style of a pencil sketch. It had just enough green in it to enhance the hunter green cabinets and just enough grey and white to match the other features in the bathroom.

She wanders over to the tub and the accent wall, carefully brushing her hand over the wall paper. “I picked this out at the store the other day! No, not even picked just casually mentioned I liked it! When did you go back and get it?”

“That day,” Matt confesses with a self satisfied smile. “While you were distracted by different closet organization systems I snuck away and bought it.”

“Matt!” She exclaims again, as if she doesn’t know what else to say.

He chuckles at her awestruck face and wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. “I take it, that means you like it?”

“This is gorgeous! And far too much! I told you to fix this house up for yourself. I mean, you spent your money on it. It should reflect you! Not me!”

“There’s nothing in this bathroom that I don’t like,” he says, intending to sooth her distress. “Except maybe the wall paper, but that’s just because I don’t like wall paper in general. It’s a pain to put up. Honestly, I think it does a pretty good job of reflecting both of us. Aside from all of that, making you happy does _reflect me_ because that’s what I want -- to make you happy.”

She turns so they’re standing chest to chest and wraps her arms around his waist. “You don’t have to build me the perfect bathroom to make me happy. You just have to be you. That will always be enough.” She leans up on her toes and kisses him slowly -- intrusively -- and then presses her forehead to his. “But for the record, you did actually build the perfect bathroom. I’m not sure I’ll ever want to leave this room again -- except maybe to eat.”

“You say that now, but you haven’t seen the closet yet,” he says, nuzzling his nose against hers while he smirks.

She hums. It’s a happy satisfied sound that almost resembles a purr. “Then quit stalling and show me already.”

So he does and, not long after that, they christen his new mattress before they’ve even had a moment to put sheets on it. Sylvie wasn’t kidding. She truly does love a well organized closet and, since he’s the one who put it all together for her, she’s determined to show him her _gratitude_.

She rolls off of him, sweaty and panting, and sprawls out on the mattress next to him. “Oh, this mattress is amazing. Much better than my old hand-me-down one.”

“It’ll be even better once we put a mattress cover and sheets on it,” he quips with a dry grin.

“I like it just like this for now,” she says as she curls into his side, her bare legs tangling with his. “Just as naked as we are.”

He laughs softly. “You’re gonna get cold. You always get cold.”

“True, but right now you’re cozy enough for me.”

His lips twist into a crooked smile before he presses them to the top of her head. “You’re cozy enough for me too.”

Showing her the bathroom and the closet did exactly what he hoped it would do. It lifted her spirits and distracted her. There may be someone out there trying to hurt her, but in this house with him she feels safe. Knowing that fills him with pride and a sense of accomplishment. The fact that she allows him to be there for her and to see so deep into her vulnerabilities floors him nearly every day.

He truly knows her better than anyone else. He’s never really had that before. Hallie kept her secrets. He loved her wholly and completely, but she didn’t tell him the entire truth about her feelings and ideas for their future. Gabby was determined to stand apart from him. He loved her for her independence but that independence meant she rarely relied on him and often shut him out. It was a double edged sword. With both, the secrets and walls would have never been enough to scare him away. He has his own flaws and he’s far from perfect. He loved them unconditionally.

But, if he’s honest, he never felt as if the unconditional nature of his love was reciprocated.

Until now. Until _Sylvie_.

She loves the same way _he_ loves — with her entire being.

He feels her breathing begin to deepen and her limbs begin to relax. He squeezes her as she’s molded to his side and speaks with his mouth against her hair. “We need to get up and make the bed before you go to sleep.”

She yawns and nods. “You’re right. I know you’re right. We also have food downstairs and I’m starving.”

“How about this,” Matt suggests. “You use the new shower, I’ll make the bed, and then we’ll go downstairs and eat.”

“That shower did look awfully tempting and it might keep me awake long enough to eat.”

And that’s how they end up downstairs sharing a stool at the breakfast bar. Him in an old pair of sweatpants and no shirt, her in the matching sweatshirt and nothing else. She leans against the stool between his legs, with her back against his chest, while they eat orange chicken and fried rice.

This is something they couldn’t do at Severide’s or at her place, thanks to their roommates, but now in his own space they can sit around in any manner of dress they want.

He _loves_ it.

Just as much as he loves her.

He decides, then and there, he has to find a way to keep her with him no matter what. Even if he is cursed, there has to be a way to make that happen and if there’s a way, he’ll find it.

******

Matt drives her to work next shift. She knew he would. The patrol car protecting her would never be enough for him. She loves him all the more for it. He spent the last forty-eight hours doing everything he could to distract her and keep her from dwelling on Kjorvin.

It worked.

Waking up with him is always better than waking up without him but there was something about waking up with him in _his house_ , even unfinished, that felt thrillingly domestic.

It’s a glimpse of what moving in with him will be like and she’s suddenly much more eager for him to finish the house. She’s also started wondering what she was so afraid of in the first place. Moving in with Matt and starting a life with him just made sense. They fit, she and Matt. They fit like the last two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle — perfectly and completely.

They arrive at the house and Sylvie, Shay (who’s back now that her migraine is gone), and Borelli are immediately pulled into Boden’s office for a meeting. 

Distracting her from Kjorvin is no longer an option. Reality encroaches and all her stress returns in an instant.

Shay hugs her before they sit down. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here, Partner.”

“You were sick,” Brett reminds her. “You couldn’t help it.”

“Still—“

“Nu-uh,” Sylvie says as she pulls back from the hug and wags a finger at Leslie. “You will absolutely not blame yourself. There was nothing you could have done to stop it from happening.”

Shay promptly shuts her mouth, one corner tugging upward, and nods. They sit while Borelli leans against the wall to their left.

Boden walks and closes the door. He sits across from them, behind his desk. He opens his mouth to speak but his phone rings first.

“That’ll be Voight,” he says before giving them an apologetic glance and answering the phone.

They watch him as he listens, making an affirmative noise here and there, and then after about five minutes of listening he says, “well, you let me know if the situation changes. Thank you.”

He hangs up the phone and meets Sylvie’s eyes, looking as somber as ever.

“They tracked the call to an unregistered cell phone, but then it went dark. So far they have no other leads on this Kjorvin guy.”

Her shoulders fall in stress and disappointment. Of course not. That would be too easy. 

And then Boden glances over at Shay. “I’m gonna need you to do a shift with Jimmy.”

Shay nods, decisively. “Copy that.”

“Cool,” Jimmy agrees.

“No, not cool,” Sylvie immediately disagrees, leaning forward in her chair. “Chief, I sat out last shift and I appreciate your concern, but I don’t want to keep letting this guy stop me from doing my job.”

Really wasn’t one shift enough? She would have Shay with her and patrolmen are still tailing her everywhere she goes. She has plenty of back up. She could work. She _wants_ to work. What else is she going to do? Sit around and worry that Kjorvin might jump out of the shadows at any moment? No, she needs to work. She needs the distraction.

“It is not your decision,” Boden states firmly. “I can’t have you out on calls until this threat is neutralized.”

“Chief—“

“Please do not argue with me.”

His voice is calm and quiet but his expression is dangerous. She’s walking on thin ice, that much is clear. It’s an order and she’s meant to follow it. Nothing she says will change his mind. She’s always known when to pick her battles, this is not a time to battle anyone — especially her Chief. So, she bites her tongue (almost literally) and nods stiffly in acceptance of his command.

“Thank you,” he replies. “That’s all.”

She lingers behind Shay and Jimmy, turning back at the door to talk to Boden again. “Chief, if this is about me not coming to you first—“

“I am not punishing you, Brett,” he assures her, genuinely. “I’m taking care of you.”

She nods and leaves. She’s disappointed but she understands. It’s frustrating and yet deep down she’s grateful. Her firehouse family cares about what happens to her beyond these walls. She’s fortunate to have people in her life that are willing to look out for her.

She walks away from Boden’s office and heads to Matt’s quarters, breezing through the open door and sitting on his bed. “He benched me.”

“I can’t say I’m not relieved,” Matt says, turning to look at her with a contrite expression. “But I’m sorry. I know you’d rather work.”

“I’ll find something to do,” she says with a sigh. “I’m here, I might as well contribute somehow.”

“You could man the tower. It’s not at all exciting, but it’s something,” Matt offers. “I’ll have Otis and Cruz show you what to do.”

She nods, already dreading it. “Thank you.”

“You know he’s just protecting you, don’t you? We all want to protect you,” Matt reminds her, leaving the chair to sit by her side on the bed. “Putting you at further risk isn’t an option.”

“I understand,” she replies, meeting his worried stare. “But isn’t that my choice to make? I’m at risk every day in this job. How is this really any different? Especially when I have CPD keeping such a close eye on me. I should have a chance to decide what level of risk I’m comfortable with.”

He scoffs out a dry laugh and wraps an arm around her waist. “With how selfless you are we all already know what you would decide. That’s the problem. You won’t prioritize your own safety...so someone else has to. Boden knows that as well as I do.” He places a casual kiss to her temple and then squeezes her waist gently. “CPD will find him. He has to show his face sometime and when he does they’ll nab him. In the meantime, just humor us, okay? Let us keep you safe.”

Matt tries to sound casual with his request but she can hear the desperation in his words. She suspects he’s been just as terrified as her through this entire catastrophe, even if he’d never admit it.

“Okay, fine,” she agrees.

“Good,” he replies, releasing a tense breath. He stands from the bed and holds out his hand for hers. “Come on, let’s go find Cruz and Otis. They’ll show you the ropes.”

Turns out, she doesn’t have to sit at Tower for long. The next call they take in is a person in distress call for 61 which turns out to be Kjorvin after a shootout with the police. He’s a termination in the field. He had a GSW to the head that Shay and Borelli didn’t see until it was too late.

Boden gets the call and takes her to the scene to meet Halstead and identify the body.

Seeing Kjorvin on the payment, lifeless and bloody, should be satisfying but it isn’t. It leaves her feeling sort of hollow to be truthful. She’s safe and the danger is over but it’s still a life lost. It feels wrong to celebrate, even if she should.

She gets put back on 61 and works the rest of shift. It’s a welcome distraction as is getting ready to attend Mouch’s wedding once shift ends and Matt drops her off at her apartment. After the last few days she can tell he’s reluctant to leave her, but he has too. He needs to finish moving his things from Severide’s to the house and then get ready himself.

Stella comes back to the apartment too and they get ready together. Kidd’s stressed as she’s going to be seated at one of the singles tables with Severide. Stella and Severide are reluctant friends now. They both keep their distance but they don’t avoid each other. It’s strained to say the least but Sylvie is proud of them both. They’re making a friendship work despite the awkwardness.

“You’ll be fine,” Sylvie assures her. “And if all else fails I’ll help you find someone to switch seats with.”

Stella leaves early to help Herrmann set up. When Sylvie asks why she says she’s thinking of asking Herrmann for a job at Molly’s and wants to prove herself first — that way he can’t say no.

“I’m gonna need the extra money if I’m going to get a new place when you move in with Casey,” she says with a shrug. “That house is coming along quicker than any of us thought so I need to start getting ready for it.”

Sylvie can’t disagree with that.

She’s putting in her earrings and deciding on a coat to coordinate with her dress when Matt knocks at her door — right on time like always. 

“Hey,” she greets, kissing him swiftly before grabbing her clutch and her keys.

“Hey,” he says, offering his arm to help her down the front stoop in her heels.

The fact that there’s no police detail sitting outside her apartment finally hits her. Kjorvin is gone. Her life can go back to normal. The tension in her muscles releases and a contented sigh leaves her lips. She leans further into Matt as they walk.

“Do you know how good it feels to not have to look over my shoulder anymore?” She asks Matt as he opens his truck door for her. “I’ve spent nearly a week waiting for the other shoe to drop. I don’t think I fully realized I don’t have to keep doing that until now.”

Matt smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Her brow furrows as she climbs into the truck and sits down.

“Are you okay?” She asks, cupping his cheek with her left hand.

He nods and then turns his head to press his lips to her palm. “I’m fine. I’m glad you feel safe again, but I hate that you were ever in danger to begin with.”

“It’s the nature of the job, Matt, you know that,” she reminds him, gently. She watches him run into unstable situations every shift. They’re both in danger every time the bells go off. “But let’s not think about that tonight. Tonight is about Platt and Mouch.”

She runs a hand through his hair, hoping to console his remaining worries, and then nods toward the driver’s side. “Now, come on or we’ll be late and I know how you hate being late.”

Matt returns mostly to himself for the drive to Molly’s and the ceremony. He still seems a bit distracted, but at least his smiles are honest. There’s something bothering him and she has no idea what it is. He walks away from her at one point to greet Boden and Donna. When he comes back, he’s quiet and withdrawn.

Oh, he’s still physically present. His hands are constantly touching some part of her as if he’s tethering himself to her — like he’s afraid she might float away if he doesn’t use at least one hand to ground her to him. But his mind is definitely elsewhere, trapped in his own thoughts.

Boden or Donna said something that bothered him. His eyes are far away and his muscles are clenched but she never saw a single sign of anything unpleasant in Matt’s conversation with them. She has no idea what changed or what caused his sullen, slightly possessive, mood.

But _something_ did.

She drops her hand to his where it resides on her hip and wraps her fingers around his, drawing his attention to her face.

“Are you _sure_ you’re okay?” Sylvie asks, gnawing her lip.

Sadness flashes across his eyes. It’s a deep sort of sorrow that makes her want to hold him close and never let go, but his answer doesn’t reflect the emotion in his gaze.

“I’m fine. Truly,” he promises, before dropping a kiss to her temple. “Stop worrying.”

Why won’t he tell her what’s bothering him? Is it the wedding in general? Maybe something to do with Hallie or Gabby? But then this is the third wedding they’ve attended together. If it were to do with weddings and his two late fiances then wouldn’t this sadness have overwhelmed him then too? She has no idea and it concerns her. He’s never refused to talk to her before. She doesn’t like being in the dark, but forcing him to talk won’t work either.

The only thing she can do is stand down and hope he eventually comes to her with the truth. Until then...

Well, _stop worrying_ is easier said than done.


	11. Post 4x20: In the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt and Sylvie have Thanksgiving together with Matt's family and then their 51 family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Okay, here we go. This took me way too long to write for some reason. I think because it’s angsty and canon is also angsty? Lol.
> 
> This one takes place in between 4x20 and 4x21. As I explained on Twitter because I wrote in summer I have thrown off the canon timeline (oops?) so now the end of S4 is happening around the holidays instead of in the spring which is why this chapter is set over Thanksgiving, lol.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo
> 
> ******

It’s been a rough two weeks. Sure, there’d been bright spots, like Shay and Kidd swindling Herrmann into hiring Stella to manage Molly’s, but mostly it had been emotionally draining.

Last shift seemed like the culmination of all of it. With Holloway’s tragic death and JJ’s departure. The entire house had felt that loss on the boy’s behalf. Casey knew what it was like to lose a parent young, but at least he hadn’t been as young as JJ. Adding to that was the absence of Pouch, who Mouch had generously given to JJ to offer him comfort.

Sylvie was dealing with something else all together. He could tell she wanted to tell him but she kept saying it wasn’t her story to tell. He knew by the amount of time she’d been spending with Otis and Cruz that it had something to do with the two of them. Otis had seemed a combination of subdued and frantic but as long as he was still able to do his job and do it well Casey stayed out of it. Cruz and Sylvie had traded more than a handful of concerned glances over it.

It’s clear there’s something very serious happening with Otis. Sylvie is taking whatever it is very hard. Supporting her through this unknown problem has temporarily drowned out the recent funk he’d fallen into.

Beyond that, Casey had helped Tamara with a teenage boy who was being intimidated by a local gang to stay home. Tamara had tried to help every way she could but the kid was determined to walk to his graduation so Casey decided enough with the politics. Tamara had tried her way and it didn’t work. So, Matt tried his, with Boden and 51’s help of course. After all his fears and frustrations, actually making a very real difference had been nice.

But now there’s _today_.

The day before Thanksgiving.

They have shift tomorrow so that means he’s celebrating early with his vegan sister and his very _not_ vegan niece. One of whom will be meeting Sylvie for the very first time today. Sylvie is antsy, squirming in the passenger seat of his truck. He chuckles and reaches over to grab her hand. He laces their fingers together while he parallel parks in front of his sister’s house, squeezing her hand before releasing it to cut off the engine.

“Relax,” he assures her. “They’re gonna love you.”

“I’m sorry I teased you so much on the way to Fowlerton this summer,” she replies, blowing out a nervous breath. “This is terrifying.”

He grins warmly at her and reaches for her hand again, bringing her fingers to his lips. “You’ve already met Violet.”

“Once, very briefly,” Sylvie argues. “This is different. And it feels wrong not bringing anything. My mom always told me if you’re invited over to someone’s house you bring something—“

“Christie threatened me with violence if I let you lift a finger to cook anything. That email you sent her with all those vegan recipes left her afraid you might try and cook the entire dinner and, she says, you’re a guest and shouldn’t do any of the heavy lifting.”

“See?” Sylvie says, biting her bottom lip. “She already hates me.”

His brow furrows in surprise. “What? No, she doesn’t.”

“I’m too intense. I annoyed her with my compulsive need to be prepared—“

He laughs brightly, only pressing his lips together to stifle it when Sylvie glares at him. “You didn’t annoy her. She feels self conscious about people going out of their way to accommodate her diet. I blame Jim. He spent the few dinners I had with the two of them grumbling about how expensive the grocery bill is when they have to make two different dinners every night.”

“He sounds charming,” Sylvie replies with a dry scoff.

“Honestly, I’m ashamed I didn’t kick his ass _years_ ago. Christie can do better. The point is, that wasn’t about you or your email. She wants you to relax and enjoy the day,” he assures her. “Especially because we have to work tomorrow.”

“I’m going to take your word for it because I really want what you’re saying right now to be true,” she says with a nervous gulp.

“It _is_ true,” he insists.

They get out of the truck and head to the front door hand in hand. Matt knocks and squeezes Sylvie’s hand as they wait, leaning down to press a comforting kiss to her temple. She looks tense and he knows she really doesn’t have to be. Liking Sylvie is the easiest thing in the world for almost everyone — the exceptions to that statement aren’t worth acknowledging— so Christie and Violet won’t be any different.

The door opens to his barefoot and blue jean clad sister, looking miles more relaxed than she ever did while married to Jim, smiling a bright welcoming smile at them.

“Matt! Right on time,” she declares. She hugs him and then turns to face Sylvie. “And you are Sylvie Brett, the woman I’ve heard so much about but never actually met.” She shakes Sylvie’s hand and then pulls her across the threshold. “Did you know that he has a picture of the two of you as the lock and home screens on his phone?”

No, she did _not_ know that. Thank you, Christie. He blushes furiously as Sylvie gives him a curious smile.

“Oh, does he? Which picture?”

“Two different pictures actually. One formal. You looked like a knock out in that black dress by the way. I’m very jealous. And one casual. There’s a lot of red white and blue so I’m assuming Fourth of July. My baby brother is a secret sap. It’s adorable, really,” Christie says, tossing Matt a teasing grin as she closes the front door behind them. 

“Those are both good ones,” Sylvie agrees, turning to Matt with overwhelming affection in her eyes. “Mine are a picture of us from my brother’s wedding reception and one Shay took of us last month we dozed off on the couch after getting home from shift.”

“Wait, what?” He asks. “I’ve never seen this picture.”

“Shay didn’t think you’d like it,” Sylvie replies with a shrug. “She only sent it to me.”

“Well, I _would_ like it,” he disagrees. He wants every photo of them he can get. “Can you send it to me?”

“Of course,” she agrees with a chuckle. “Your house is beautiful, Christie. I love your color choices.”

“Oh, aren’t you sweet. I redecorated after the divorce. Made the space more me since I no longer had to share it. Just some repainting and a couple of new furniture pieces but it certainly made the space calmer. Matt tells me you have a bit of an eye for interior design?”

Sylvie tucks a blonde strand behind her ear and modestly looks away with a self deprecating snicker. “I don’t know about _that_. I’m just obsessed with HGTV, that’s all.”

“Well, still, maybe Friday you can go shopping with me and Violet. We could use your expertise. I’m letting her spruce up her room and we’re taking advantage of Black Friday to do it,” Christie offers. “If you’re up for it after your shift of course.”

“I—“ Sylvie looks shocked and touched at the invitation. “I would love that actually. I was hoping to get a couple of things for Matt’s house anyway so that would be perfect.”

There’s an excited gasp from the top of the stairs and all eyes turn to find Violet beaming at them at the top of them. 

“She’s coming with us?” Violet asks.

“Yes, I’d like to,” Sylvie says, smiling warmly at Violet. “Is that okay?”

“Um, yes that’s okay!” Violet says as she scrambles down the stairs. “I’ve been begging Uncle Matt to bring me by the Firehouse so I could hang out with you but he’s always afraid the house might be too busy and I’ll get bored. So this is perfect! I can’t wait!”

“You’ve been wanting to come by and hang out with me?” Sylvie asks with a pleasantly surprised smile.

“You seemed really cool when I met you last year,” Violet answers, suddenly sounding shy and reluctant. “You were totally right about that book by the way. I loved it.”

“You seemed really cool too. Still do,” Sylvie says with a bright smile. “And if you need any more book recommendations I have like a whole list of them I could give you. I was obsessed with reading when I was your age.”

“Mom, how much time before dinner’s ready?” Violet asks, eagerly biting her bottom lip.

“About an hour, why?” Christie asks her skeptically.

“Good! Sylvie can come up and see my room,” Violet announces, grabbing Sylvie’s hand and pulling her up the stairs. “Come on!”

“Oh! Okay!” Sylvie replies with a soft laugh as she lets Violet drag her away. “Sure. That sounds fun.”

Christie gaves Matt an amused and knowing look once they’re gone but doesn’t say anything. She walks off toward the kitchen and he follows her.

“What is that face?” Matt asks, even though he’s not sure he wants to know.

“Nothing!” Christie protests. “I just really like her, that’s all. She’s very sweet and I completely understand now why you wanted us to officially meet. I can see it in the way you look at her.”

“See what?”

“She’s it,” Christie tells him. “She’s the one. You look at her and it’s like you see the rest of your life. It reminds me of how you used to look at—“ She cuts her own sentence short but then hesitantly pushes on. “Hallie a little. Though there’s a bit more confidence in the way you look at Sylvie. It looks good on you and I’m very glad to see it, that’s all.”

“I am confident in her,” Matt confesses. “I love her and I want to be around her all the time. Is that obsessive?”

Christie laughs as she checks on the turkey and then leans against the counter when she’s done. “No, Matt, it’s not. It means you not only love her but you also like her. That’s special.”

“She’s my best friend,” he tells her. “Of course I like her.”

“Well, then put a ring on her finger,” Christie says teasingly. “Because, speaking from personal experience, falling in love with your best friend is rare and beautiful. You should do all you can to keep it.”

He nearly groans out loud at his sister’s words. That’s what Donna Boden told him at Mouch’s wedding almost a month ago and he’d been stewing in it ever since. He wants to spend the rest of his life with Sylvie but officially putting a ring on her finger terrifies him. It’s been frustrating him for weeks. It’s an awful feeling to be scared shitless by the one thing you want most in the world.

“I don’t know,” Matt admits, biting the inside of his cheek. “Have you ever really looked at our family history? Maybe the ring is what dooms us.”

Her brow furrows at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, look at mom and dad. Then there was you and Jim and I’ve mourned _two_ fiancés. It could all be shitty coincidences but what if it’s more than that? What if it’s _us_? I mean, Gabby died the very moment after I proposed—“

He stops and huffs as his eyes water, frustrated with himself, and runs a hand over his face. He hadn’t meant to say all of that. Not today. Not to Christie.

He feels her hand on his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. The action pulls his eyes to hers. There are unshed tears in her eyes too.

She sighs, and the sound is sympathetic yet regretful. “We’re not cursed, Matt. I get why you might think that, but mom and dad’s problems weren’t on us and Jim was just a jackass. I—I don’t have an explanation for Hallie and Gabby. You don’t deserve to lose so many people that you love. But that has nothing to do with you and Sylvie,” she assures him.

He wishes he felt as confident as she sounds. Maybe she’s right, though, and his entire family isn’t cursed.

Maybe it’s just _him_.

“I don’t know,” he says, hopelessly. “But I can’t risk losing anyone else. Especially not Sylvie. I don’t think I’d survive it.”

“Have you talked to her about this?” Christie asks worriedly.

“And say what? ‘I know this sounds ridiculous but I’m worried if I propose to you I might kill you’? It’s superstitious and embarrassing. How do I even approach that?”

The questions are all rhetorical. He doesn’t expect her to answer. So, it’s actually a welcome interruption when Violet and Sylvie come thundering back down the stairs. He knows the answers.

He can’t talk to Sylvie about any of this. All he’ll do is scare her. Plus, it’s humiliating to admit that he’s let his past seep into his subconscious to the point of self sabotage. No, he’ll just have to grit his teeth and work through it himself. It’s his problem and his baggage to carry. 

He’ll figure it out.

“You should really talk to Sylvie about this, Matt,” Christie suggests. “I don’t know her well but this sounds like something she’d want to help you with.”

“No,” he replies urgently. “Not right now, at least. I’ll work it out. Don’t tell her. Christie? You have to promise you won’t tell her. If anyone’s going to tell her then it should be me.”

Christie sighs but nods in resignation. “Of course I won’t tell her. It’s your feelings and concerns, not mine. But I want it on the record that I think keeping this from her is a terrible idea.”

“Noted,” he replies.

Also for the record, he’s pretty sure she’s right, but he just can’t bring himself to tell her. He’s afraid it might change everything between them and he likes things just as they are.

******

Matt had been right. Sylvie was worried about meeting his family for nothing. Dinner went off without a hitch. Christie and Violet are wonderful and Sylvie is beyond excited about going shopping with them on Friday.

They hadn’t stayed long after dinner. She and Casey both had side dishes to prepare for their Thanksgiving dinner at the house the next day. They’re bringing theirs in oven-ready so it cuts down on prep time in the Firehouse kitchen. Boden will be preparing the turkey himself so they want to be in his way as little as possible.

Matt’s in a strange mood the rest of the day. He smiles at her and kisses her and touches her in little affectionate ways as he always does but he doesn’t say much and there’s guilt lingering in his eyes. For the life of her she has no idea what he might feel guilty about and he doesn’t seem to want to tell her.

She’d push him if she weren’t also keeping Otis’s secret about the bruising on his back and his refusal to get his blood drawn for Dr. Halstead. Maybe, whatever it is, isn’t his news to share. So, she lets it slide.

Thankfully, the shift has been slow. No one dares remark on it outloud for fear of ruining it. The side dishes are all prepared and Boden has just pulled the turkey out of the oven. Sylvie’s never had Thanksgiving with 51. Last year they’d had the shift off and she’d made a very short trip home. So, this is all new and exciting to her. Boden sets the turkey down on the table and gives a rousing speech about gratefulness and appreciating all that they’ve been given as a house. It’s very sweet and had Sylvie needed to be reminded it would have done the trick, but she knows exactly how fortunate she is to have 51.

She doesn’t want to think about where she’d be now if she’d been assigned anywhere aside from 51.

Over dinner they talk about silly things and monumental things. Shay gives them an update on her foster status.

“I knew it was going to take forever,” Shay says with an eye roll. “But I didn’t think the home inspection would be the hardest part to plan. I can’t get anyone to nail down a date and time. I keep hearing ‘we’ll call you’ but then no one ever does. It’s annoying as hell. I mean I get single women with male roommates and demanding jobs probably aren’t their priority but come on, man. They have kids that need to be placed and I’m right here! Ready and willing, you know? It’s driving me crazy.”

“You could always try calling Tamara,” Matt suggests, between bites of stuffing. “She probably has a string she can pull somewhere I would think. I mean, if you’ve done everything else and the home inspection is the final piece, what would be the harm in her putting a little pressure on the right people?”

Shay lights up with a thoughtful grin. “I like the way you think, Matt Casey. I’ll give her a call tomorrow.”

Sylvie gently elbows Matt and gives him a proud smile. She loves how he’s always there for his friends. He scoffs at her admiration with a self deprecating smirk and a shrug.

“What does Rafferty think about all of this?” Kidd asks from Sylvie’s other side.

Shay tenses and her expression immediately turns contrite. “Uh, well, I haven’t told her.”

“Leslie Elizabeth Shay!” Sylvie scolds. “You’re lying to Allison?”

“No,” Shay disagrees. “Not lying! I started this process before we started dating and at first I didn’t know how to bring it up and then the longer I took to say anything the more awkward it became and now…”

“Now you’re stuck?” Stella asks with a dry chuckle.

“A lie of omission is still a lie,” Sylvie reminds her. “Tell her. Tell her as soon as you possibly can. If you keep her in the dark then she can’t help you with it and I’m sure she’d love to be part of it somehow. I mean, she’s a serious part of your life now. You should include her.”

Matt tenses next to her and chokes on his drink. Sylvie breaks from her conversation with Shay to pat his back with a concerned stare.

“You okay?”

He nods and clears his throat a couple of times before coughing once more. “Yeah, I’m good. Just sucked water down my windpipe.”

“I know you’re right, Farmgirl,” Shay tells her with a sigh. “And I will, I’m just nervous about her reaction and I don’t want to hurt her feelings and make her think I kept her out of it on purpose, you know?”

“If she loves you the way I think she does then she won’t think that. She might be a little upset at being shut out, sure, but it’s not like you set out to do that. It would be totally different if you’d deliberately planned to keep it to yourself from the beginning. But that’s not what happened. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Sylvie says with a comforting smile. “Promise you’ll tell her after shift?”

Shay chuckles at her partner with a fond grin and nods. “I promise.”

“Good, let me know how it goes.”

“Yes, mom,” Shay replies teasingly.

Severide laughs and points at Brett with a satisfied smile. “See? It’s not just me. You truly are the mom friend.”

“Fine,” Sylvie admits. “I’m the mom friend, but someone has to be!”

Matt chuckles at her and then leans down to drop a quick kiss to the top of her head. “And why not you, right?”

She beams at him with a firm nod. “Right. Why not me?”

After shift, Matt drops her off at Christie’s and then goes to the house. He plans to use the day to make some serious progress on the kitchen island and the cabinets that will frame the refrigerator. He says he’d like to get those appliances in as soon as possible because he’s getting tired of take out and delivery. Honestly, she can’t blame him for that.

But another part of her can’t help but feel he’s less eager to finish the work and more eager to get away from her.

She bites her bottom lip and dismisses that thought. She’s being ridiculous. The last few weeks have been trying and stressful. She knows sometimes Matt’s work is therapy. This may be one of those times but it doesn’t mean it has anything to do with her.

******

Normally, he loves it when Sylvie texts him little updates as he works. They can’t talk when he’s engrossed in a job but when he pulls his head out of his task oriented fog he enjoys taking a few minutes to see what she’s up to and check in. Today he finds himself internally groaning every time his phone vibrates in his pocket. He knows it’s her and he shouldn’t ignore her, but all it’s going to do is make him feel _worse_.

She’d said something at Thanksgiving dinner yesterday that had unintentionally buried him in guilt. He needs to tell her what’s been bothering him but he’s afraid his irrational fear might hurt her or, worse, that she’d laugh at him. He knows he’s being ridiculous but he doesn’t want to know that she feels that way too. Gabby would have. Hallie would have too at first.

He’s embarrassed that what would appear as a tragic coincidence to anyone else has become some conspiracy of the Universe to him. He’s usually very sensible and logical, but when it comes to Sylvie sense and logic have never truly mattered.

He’s finishing up with the kitchen island when the front door opens and Sylvie walks in, weighted down with shopping bags on her arms. 

She smiles when she sees him, but he can see worry in her eyes and he knows his silence has made her self conscious.

“Hey!” She greets with halfhearted brightness. “Did you get a lot of work done today?”

He nods and meets her halfway, taking care to kiss her a little longer and a little deeper. He’s afraid to tell her what’s wrong but he doesn’t want her to think she’s done anything wrong. He smiles warmly at her as he pulls away from the kiss. 

“I did,” he answers. “Sorry for the silence but I was in the zone. All that’s left to do is replace the countertop and the kitchen island is finished. The cabinets on the right side of the kitchen are done too. So, I should be able to get a stove and a refrigerator here within the next week or so.”

Her shoulders relax and the smile she sends him reaches her eyes. “Oh, good! That’s amazing progress! I’m glad that’s all it was, though. For a second I thought I’d gotten on your nerves or something.”

“No,” he promises, pulling her into him and kissing her again. Quick and chaste this time. “You didn’t get on my nerves. You know I love hearing about your day. Speaking of, how’d it go?”

“Great! Your sister and your niece have very good taste,” she tells him excitedly. “And Violet is adorable. She’s much more together than I was at thirteen that’s for sure. Then again I spent a good deal of my time with the animals on our farm and wasn’t very good at making friends at first. If not for Hope I probably would have spent every second of middle school with only our horses to hang out with.” She chuckles and shakes her head at the memory. “Violet’s lucky she got that Casey family charm.”

He guffaws at her and scoffs. “Right, Casey family charm. Christie got all the charm. I was probably as awkward as you were, just in a city boy way which is much less endearing. Did you get anything good while shopping?”

“Nothing terribly exciting no, but I got a good deal on towels for the master bath and…”

She trails off as she sets one bag down so she can rifle through the other one. She hands him a tall thin paper bag that feels heavier than it should. He reaches inside and finds a cardboard envelope full of pictures. Some of them he knows Christie gave her and others look like they were freshly printed.

“Every home needs photos,” she tells him as she watches him flip through them. “Christie had some from when you were kids that she thought you might like and then I had some printed from my phone. One place we went had a great deal on picture frames so I got a few of those too. Just enough for the bedroom for right now. I figure you can save the rest of the photos and put them out once the house is finished.”

It’s an extremely thoughtful gesture and typical for Sylvie. It’s the perfect reminder of why she’s so easy to love and how much he truly does need her. 

“Thank you,” he replies, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek. “I haven’t even thought about pictures.”

She chuckles softly and turns her face to kiss his palm. “No, I figured you hadn’t.”

“I love you,” he reminds her. After the way he ignored her today, he needs to remind her just as much as she needs to hear it.

“I love you too,” she replies.

He kisses her forehead and then steps back, looking down at his sawdust covered clothes and smelling the faint remaining fumes of wood glue. “I should shower. When I get done we’ll figure out what to do for dinner, okay?”

She nods. “Sure.” As he reaches the stairs, though, she calls him back. “Wait, before I forget, I wanted to run an idea by you.”

“Okay, shoot,” he says, leaning against the banister as he turns to look at her.

“You said you’re hoping to have the stove and fridge in next week?” She asks.

“Yeah, gotta make sure everything’s good with the gas connections and get them inspected but once that’s done and the countertops installed it shouldn’t take me long. Why?”

“Well, once that’s done the kitchen should be halfway done, right? So, I was thinking, what if I move in then? I mean, I still need to pay Stella half the rent if only to store the rest of my stuff and wait out the lease, but I could keep my clothes here, stay here with you, maybe even help with the work. With two people it should get done faster, after all.” She’s biting her bottom lip and gesticulating nervously as if she’s afraid he’ll say no.

The truth is, he’d love it. He wants her around all the time so having her here with him to help with the work or just sit around and watch tv with him would be a dream come true. He’s about to tell her that when a thought hits him.

But what if he never gets over his fear and he never wants to take that next step with her?

Then living together would be as far as they could go. 

Is it fair to agree to this before he’s given her a warning about that? No, because what if marriage is a dealbreaker for Sylvie the way kids were with Hallie? What if he tells her that and it’s not what she wants? Then she’ll have invested in him and this house and it would feel, to him at least, like a deception. Like the way he initially felt deceived by Hallie. She hadn’t meant it that way, of course, and at one point she thought she had wanted kids but none of that changed the fact that in the last few years of their relationship she knew she might not want kids and never told him. She’d agreed to marry him knowing one of his dreams had always been to have a family of his own.

He couldn’t do that to Sylvie.

He swallows thickly and then clears his throat, jumping as if he’s forgotten something. “Uh, yeah, sure, we can talk about that,” he says quickly as he looks down at his watch. “Damn.”

“What is it?” Sylvie asks, suspiciously.

“I told Severide I’d help him move furniture into my old bedroom to get Shay ready for her home inspection. I didn’t realize it was so late. I’m gonna shower and then pick up dinner on my way over there. I’m sorry, babe.” He kisses her cheek and then hurriedly sprints up the stairs, resisting the urge to look back at her reaction. 

It’s not exactly a lie. He did agree to help Severide, but not until tomorrow.

So, okay, maybe it’s a bit of a lie.

Jesus, he’s a coward. This is not like him at all and he knows it.

He should _tell her_ but he can’t get the words out no matter how much he wants to. He’s handling this all wrong but he doesn’t know how to stop. He’s got to sort his shit out and soon. Sylvie’s going to want an answer. He won’t be able to avoid the discussion for long.

He texts Severide before hopping in the shower to let him know he has to change his plans and he’s coming over tonight. Severide agrees but Matt knows he’ll want more details once he shows up on his doorstep in an hour. When he’s done getting ready, he sprints out the door as if he’s in a rush and tosses a quick goodbye to Sylvie.

He hates himself while he does it, but he’s scrambling to get a grip on his panic at this point.

How does he tell her? How does he answer her? Is there any possible scenario where he comes out of this without losing her completely?

Severide asks him if anything’s wrong when he arrives and Matt can’t even bring himself to admit it to his best friend. He simply shrugs and tells him he needed a distraction. Severide doesn’t buy it but lets him get away with a half assed answer. He knows, as well as Matt does, that it’s been a hell of a tumultuous two weeks. What member of 51 _doesn’t_ need a distraction?

They move and build furniture for the rest of the night and then when they’re done smoke a couple of cigars on the roof -- all in pensive silence.

******

Sylvie stares at the door as it closes behind Matt and blinks at it in confusion. 

Things had almost seemed normal between them again for a brief moment and then she’d asked what he thought about her moving in early.

His sudden and desperate exit from the question seemed to be answer enough.

She’d excused his distance all week as a result of the last couple of weeks of emotional stress, but that response to her question couldn’t have been about anything else other than her. Did he no longer want her to move in? Did he change his mind and want to go slower, after all? Could it be more serious than that? Was he having doubts about the two of them as a couple?

Surely not. Everytime he says he loves her he means it. She knows that deep in her soul. She can see it written all across his face. It must be the idea of moving in together. She knows she was reluctant about it at first but now she’s excited. She wants nothing more than to share space with him all day every day. The idea that they’ve now completely flipped positions feels like someone’s stabbed her and decided to twist the knife.

Maybe she’s wrong. Maybe she’s seeing conflict where there isn’t any and his sudden exit truly can be chalked up to bad timing.

Yes, that has to be it. Just a case of bad timing.

If he were having any serious doubts he’d come to her immediately. He knows, just as she does, that they’re stronger when they work together. After all they’ve been through to get here, he wouldn’t keep anything truly upsetting from her.

He would never deliberately keep her in the dark. It’s one of the things she loves most about their relationship.

No, she’s overreacting again. He’s fine and if he wasn’t he would let her know.

There’s no need to worry.

She orders take out for dinner and then gives up waiting on Matt to come home before she goes to bed. She’s covering first shift tomorrow with Desmond and needs her sleep, especially since Dr. Choi from Med will be riding with them and she wants to make a good impression.

The next morning he’s still asleep when she wakes and he doesn’t stir an inch as she gets ready. She doesn’t know how late he was out exactly but it must have been a long time. He never sleeps this deeply. Before she leaves, she stops by his side of the bed and brushes his ruffled hair off of his forehead.

Despite telling herself there’s no need to worry, it nags at her anyway. 

She sighs deeply and shrugs it off. She needs to be focused and sharp today. If something is going on with Matt then it will have to wait. She places a soft kiss to his forehead and then drags herself away.

Nothing is wrong, she reassures herself. Matt would tell you if there was anything going on.

 _Stop being ridiculous_. 


	12. 4x21: Not Cutting It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Casey and Brett struggle with their secrets. But do they struggle together or individually?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** So originally I was going to briefly summarize 4x21 and 4x22 and have them be just a basic jumping off point for the 4x23 chapter but as I started writing I realized writing those two eps gives more space to properly set up The Big Talk that’s coming. 
> 
> So, here is a chapter set during 4x21. I’m not sure if 4x22 will have it’s own yet or just be the start of 4x23. We’ll see. But hopefully you guys will enjoy this chapter! (Hang in there, you can make it through the angst.)
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo
> 
> ******

Sylvie is already at the Firehouse when the rest of second shift begins to trickle in. She worked first shift so she’s in her uniform, counting inventory on 61, as Matt steps foot on the app floor.

He’s been consumed with guilt the last 24 hours and funnels it into the house. He installed the countertop on the island yesterday and then began demolishing the other half of the old kitchen cabinets. He hates avoiding her or lying to her. A part of him wants to spill his guts but then another part of him thinks it’s not her load to bear. His fears could hurt her more deeply than his avoidance.

“Hey,” he says as he stops by the ambo and leans against the back of it.

She looks up with a warm smile, pausing while counting c-collars. “Hey! How was your day yesterday?”

“Kitchen Island is done along with the right side of the kitchen,” he tells her, with a shrug. “Listen, about the other night—“

She waves him off as she hops down from the ambo and kisses him quickly. “Don’t worry about it. Bad timing on my part. What did you think about what I said about moving in early, though? I just thought having the stove and the fridge working means the house is mostly done, you know?”

Oh no, he can’t refuse her right here on the app floor not five feet from Squad sitting down at their table for the first time that day. He knows she isn’t trying to pressure him. She doesn’t realize he’s having any sort of doubts. It seems like a quick and easy question to her.

Shay passes them to step into the rig and pick up counting where Sylvie left off, and then his Truck guys step outside to begin checking 81’s compartments.

Despite knowing he should ask to relocate this discussion and pour out his twisted up heart, he finds himself replying instead. “Yeah, you’re right. The house should be mostly done once the stove and fridge are in. I think you moving in early would be a great idea.”

Again, it’s not a lie. He _does_ think that, but he also thinks Sylvie doesn’t have the full picture. He shouldn’t have said yes until he could work up the balls to tell her what’s been going on in his head.

But between the public setting and her earnest expression, he can’t bring himself to say anything other than yes.

Her smile is wide and full as soon as the words leave his lips and in spite of the guilt he’s feeling he can’t help but smile back.

“Really?” She asks in excited shock. She launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. “Oh, I’m so excited! This is gonna be great!”

He chuckles at her excitement and returns the embrace, allowing himself to enjoy the happy moment. He doesn’t know how or if he can fix this so on the off chance he can’t he plans to relish every chance he can get to hold onto her.

As they’re pulling apart the bells go off, informing them of a structure fire. Matt drops his duffle by the double doors and drowns his turmoil in work. Lieutenant Matt Casey is allowed to focus on one problem at a time and that problem is never his love life.

It’s a three story home that’s been retrofitted into apartments and when they arrive the top floor is already engulfed. Squad takes the top floor, 81 takes the rest. Kidd stays outside to man the aerial. Casey and Mouch take the first floor and Herrmann and Borelli take the second. 

Casey and Mouch find the first floor apartment empty so they come right back out. Boden makes the evacuation call as the roof is groaning and buckling and the smoke is rapidly turning black. Herrmann emerges with a woman who he says is overdosing but Borelli isn’t on his hip. There’s a painful moment where the building flashes over. Cruz and Severide barely make it onto the aerial before the flames explode out the windows and the roof gives. Borelli is still nowhere to be seen. They all wait with baited breath and then finally he steps out the front door with a toddler tucked under his turnout coat.

Sylvie tends to their overdose patient while Shay takes the boy from Borelli’s arms. He's a quiet solemn looking kid who latches onto Shay the minute he’s handed off to her.

“Oh, okay, wow,” Shay says, craning her neck back to meet the boy's eyes. “You’re a strong little guy, huh? Come on, let’s go take a look at you.”

The boy is okay and the mom is stable. Ambo leaves the scene for Med and Truck and Squad stay behind for overhaul. The rest of the day goes by in a bit of a blur. Shay and Brett get back to the house and update them on the kid. His name is Louie and the woman was his foster mom so the poor kid has been sent to a group home until he can be placed.

Matt’s been in a group home. For however brief a time. He does not have fond memories. Shay mentions Louie kept asking for a blanket and suggests it may have been left at the apartment. Matt, still feeling guilty about his earlier conversation with Brett, agrees that Truck will take a ride and go get it. Maybe he can offset his guilt with a good deed.

He drops the blanket off with Louie’s social worker and then the day moves on. Severide starts a campaign to get new fancy equipment thanks to him and Cruz nearly dying in a flashover that morning. Matt refers him to Tamara when Chief Barr refuses to use any of their budget on new equipment.

Sylvie spends most of the shift with Cruz and Otis. Casey swears he sees Otis’s Baba, walking through the firehouse but that couldn’t have been right. He has no idea what’s been going on with Otis lately. All he knows is that Sylvie is worried and when she worries so does he.

He finds her on her bunk just before the end of shift and she immediately folds herself into his arms.

“You okay?” He asks, noticing her pinched brow and downturned mouth.

“Yeah, mostly,” she replies, sighing and holding him tighter. “Had a rough call with a college kid. He did a stupid dare as kids do and now he’s in a coma. Not sure he’ll make it.”

“I’m sorry,” Matt says, kissing her forehead gently as her cheek comes to rest on his shoulder.

She keeps going, obviously needing to vent. He has no intentions to stop her. 

“The worst part is, we probably could have saved him if his friends had called us sooner. He kept saying he was fine so they didn’t call us until it was obvious he wasn’t actually fine but...by then it was too late. I just wish people would ask for help when they need it or admit that they’re scared. Needing help and being scared are natural things. Neither makes you weak.”

She’s clearly frustrated and her words hit him like a sack of bricks. He doesn’t get the impression she’s talking about him, but she might as well be.

She sighs again. “I’ve got something to do with Joe and Otis after shift. I’m not sure how long I’ll be. Just wanted to give you a heads up.”

He nods and leans his cheek against the top of her head. “Sure, thanks for letting me know. Is Otis okay?”

“I hope so,” she replies vaguely. “I’ll tell you more when I get home. Or at least I think I’ll be able to. If Otis is okay with that.” 

She inhales deeply and then pulls herself away from him to sit up straighter and smile weakly. It’s an attempt to brighten her own spirits and he loves her all the more for it.

“New topic,” she declares. “Have you scheduled when to have your natural gas guys come out and set up the connection?”

“Not yet. I’m gonna call him tomorrow and see what we can work out. I still have to actually purchase a stove and a refrigerator,” he answers. “Having a full sized refrigerator as soon as possible would be nice at least, even if the stove takes a little while longer.”

“So you can buy more frozen dinners?” She asks him teasingly. “The manly ones with meat and potatoes?”

He laughs, the first true laugh he’s had in a while, and wraps his arms around her again, tucking her back into him. “Exactly. Though having an ice maker again would be nice too.”

“Mini fridge and ice cube trays not cutting it for you anymore?” She leans further into him with a grin. “Wow, who knew you were so high maintenance.”

“Completely high maintenance. So high maintenance that I refuse to have my first coffee of the day without you,” he tells her. He stands from her bunk and holds out his hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

She needs comfort and support right now and no matter what other fucked up shit he has going on in his head he will _always_ be there to comfort and support her. She gives him a small smile and takes his hand, letting him pull her to her feet.

“You’re too good to me sometimes, Matt Casey,” Sylvie says, pressing up onto her toes and stealing a quick kiss.

“Not possible,” he replies.

Especially if she knew he was hiding from her. Jesus, he’s a jackass.

******

Sylvie does tell him what’s going on with Otis when she gets home. Matt’s going to find out anyway next shift so Otis gave her permission to tell him. 

He has a platelet disorder and he’s going to have to be out of work for a few weeks at least for treatment. He doesn’t remember the name of the disorder but Sylvie tells him it can cause brain bleeds if it goes untreated.

It’s absolutely terrifying to imagine something like that happening to Otis.

“Joe and I had to make him go see Dr. Halstead for tests,” Sylvie informs him with a shake of her head. “I don’t even want to imagine what might have happened if Cruz and I had just let it go the way Otis asked.”

“I’m glad you and Cruz are both so stubborn,” Matt tells her, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles. “Otis will be okay. He’s tougher than he looks.”

She chuckles at his last fondly teasing sentence and lightly smacks his shoulder. “Leave poor Otis alone.”

“If I didn’t love Otis like a brother then I wouldn’t say such things,” Matt tells her. “You know that.”

She’s so relieved that Otis is seeking treatment and will most likely be okay that the topic of moving in doesn’t come up again. He’s grateful for it. With the absence of his lies by omission, things between them feel like they used to before his fear got the better of him.

The next day everything is deceptively normal as well. They go appliance shopping and Matt ends up with a new full size fridge and an oven with a gas burner stove top. Both are nice and he got a deal because they were open box buys with minor cosmetic damage. The damage is in the back corner of the fridge and the side of the oven. Both spots will be hidden behind cabinets so as long as the appliances work, the dents and scratches don’t matter.

Next shift, Otis is on medical leave and there’s a fire at Molly’s caused by Stella’s new icemaker and it’s faulty wiring. Thankfully, there’s only a small contained area of damage and no one was hurt. Molly’s will definitely survive — no matter how pissed Herrmann is at Kidd.

Other than that nothing extremely exciting happens, he and Brett go back to the house. She takes one look at the new stove, installed in it’s spot in the island but not connected, and turns to him with a question in her eyes and he already knows exactly what she’s going to ask.

“Did you call about an appointment?”

He nods. “Yeah, next week. They’re swamped right now thanks to all the indoor winter renovations people are doing. I have to make due a little longer.”

“Bummer,” Sylvie replies with genuine disappointment. Her disappointment turns to mirth a second later when her eyes land on the new fridge. “But at least you got your ice maker. _Truly_ the most important thing.”

“You laugh!” He teases. “But you drank so much iced tea that first day we had it that the ice maker couldn’t keep up. Clearly, you’re as attached to it as I am.”

“Okay, I admit it! It’s incredibly nice to not have to keep emptying and refilling ice trays! Ice makers are practically magic!”

God, he loves her. Every enthusiastically dorky inch of her. If he could shake this feeling that he’s destined to lose her then he thinks his life might actually be as near perfect as it’s ever been.

But no matter what he does or where he goes that particular storm cloud hovers over him constantly.

He’s not sure it will ever go away.


	13. 4x22, 4x23: You Self Destructed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth will out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Sorry this took so long, guys! I didn’t mean for it to! 
> 
> Fun fact, I wrote a large portion of this chapter back in May 2020. I didn’t know where or if the scene I wrote would come in to play. Originally I wrote it with this universe’s S6 Brettsey in mind, but I reread it a few weeks ago and realized it fit perfectly with the plot I’d been writing in S4! So I nipped and tucked a little and changed tiny details to fit it in this chapter. I’m so excited to use it! It made me sad to think it might sit on the cutting room floor forever!
> 
> This chapter takes place at the end of 4x22 and in the first half of 4x23. More from 4x23 is coming soon! 
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> xoxo

******

Watching Matt run into a dangerous situation was never going to be easy. It’s not made any easier by the fact that the rest of her friends always follow him into the danger as well, leaving her and Shay on the sidelines.

Those scenarios happen more often than she’d like. 

On this past shift, even. 

They’d almost lost Borelli. Both Borellis actually. Danny and Jimmy had been the last out of the building before it collapsed. Danny wanted to go back, he thought he’d heard a voice. Chief had given him the okay but Jimmy hauled him out. Jimmy hadn’t heard a voice and he’d been standing right next to him. He had no intention to let his brother risk his life over a maybe.

Danny was pissed at him at first, but after overhaul that all changed.

Sylvie and Shay have been back at the house for a while when Truck pulls back on to the apparatus floor. Only a minute or two after that, the guys from 67 pull onto their apron. Danny races across the driveway and grabs his brother in a tight hug, patting his back enthusiastically.

Sylvie turns to Matt with a furrowed brow and a small confused smile.

“What’s that about? I thought Danny was angry?”

“He was,” Matt said, stepping closer as they both watched the scene between the brothers. “But we didn’t find any additional bodies during overhaul. There was no one else in the building. Danny could have died for nothing if not for Jimmy.”

Sylvie nods but watches the firefighters with a concerned expression. They could have lost people today and one of those people could have been Matt. If Matt thought he heard someone, no one would have been able to pull him out -- aside from perhaps Severide. Imagining Matt in Danny’s place causes tears to prickle in Sylvie’s eyes.

She blinks them away and then returns her focus to restocking the ambo.

“Glad Jimmy had the sense to drag him out of there then,” Sylvie comments while counting c-collars.

“Hey,” Matt says after a moment of tense silence.

She bites her bottom lip and looks up at him. He steps into her space smiling tenderly.

“I’m okay,” he assures her. “A little dusty, but okay.”

Her throat tightens as she swallows while taking him in. There’s not a scratch on him. He’s more than okay. He’s whole. Her shoulders sag in relief before she wraps her arms around him and leans into his returning embrace.

She feels a kiss to the top of her head.

“I just found you, Sylvie,” Matt mutters as he holds her. “I’m not letting you go that easily. Trust me when I say, I’ll always do everything that I can to come back to you. Okay?”

“Okay,” she replies, closing her eyes and letting his words wash over her.

“I’m gonna go get cleaned up,” he says while rubbing his hands over her back one last time. “You good?”

She nods and pulls herself out of his hold. “I’m good. Thank you. Go do what you need to do.”

He drops one last kiss to her head, squeezes her hand, and then marches away.

“Close call today, huh?” Shay asks as she climbs in the ambo to count the vials in the cabinets.

“Too close,” Brett agrees. “Imagine if Jimmy hadn’t been in there with his brother?”

“I don’t want to think about that,” Leslie replies. “I never want to think about losing a member of the CFD. We’ve lost too many already.”

Chief calls them into the briefing room for a morale check as he sometimes does when a call nearly hits too close to home. He confirms that they’re all fine and reminds them the Chaplain is available if they need him. She and Casey connect eyes across the room and he gives her a reassuring smile. She releases a tense breath and then smiles genuinely in return. This day could have gone very differently and she’s grateful her 51 family remains intact.

Casey goes to his quarters to work on his incident report and Sylvie makes her way to the common room to spend some time with everyone else. They decompress by laughing about a prank they’re playing on Otis while he’s out on medical leave. They’ve convinced him Connie wants to replace him and now he’s bought her theater tickets. Sylvie laughs and shakes her head. She’s terrible with secrets and pranks so now she has to avoid Otis but hearing her Firehouse family laugh after a day like today makes it all worth it.

Shift ends and she goes with Casey to the house. They’re wordlessly changing clothes and getting ready for a short nap before they both get back to working on the house. As they’re curling up under the covers Sylvie remembers the appointment with the contractors set to do the natural gas connections for the stove.

“Hey, when is the appointment for the stove?” She asks. “Do we need to make sure someone’s going to be here to meet them?”

Matt winces and gives her a hesitant glance, as if he’d rather not answer. “We had to reschedule. They had other clients shift things around and that meant my appointment got pushed another week.”

“Oh,” she replies, trying to her best not to sound disappointed. “Well, that’s understandable. Can’t be helped I guess. Just let me know if you need me to hang out here and wait for them, when it is.”

He nods and kisses her swiftly and sweetly. “I’ve got it covered but I’ll definitely let you know if I need you.”

“Promise?” She asks, playfully narrowing her eyes on him.

He chuckles and tugs lightly on her french braid. “Promise.”

She drifts off to sleep dreaming about the day she’ll actually move into this house. It feels so close and yet so far away. Building a home with Matt has become so important to her that she can’t imagine her future apart from him. It feels like she’s been waiting for this moment her entire life -- like she’s been waiting for _him_ her entire life.

******

They spend the day working on ripping the flooring out of the living room and stripping wallpaper off the walls in both the kitchen and the living room. Matt’s having hardwood installed the next day but his decisions about the walls are still up in the air.

They discuss what they could do and what colors would match the tile work in the kitchen. Sylvie’s just talked him into using an adorable lemon wallpaper she found from the sample she picked up at the hardware store, when she remembers he never actually told her the date of the appointment for the stove.

“When are the guys coming for the stove again? I don’t think you ever told me.”

He rubs a hand across the back of his neck and glances down at the floor. For a moment, she thinks he looks guilty but she brushes that thought aside. What does he have to feel guilty about?

“They had to delay it again,” he replies with a wince.

Ah, okay, now she understands.

“Probably not until after Christmas now,” he informs her.

That’s not _so_ bad. That’s only a week away. 

“That’s just around the corner,” she replies with a smile and a shrug. “That’s totally fine. Speaking of Christmas, we’re on shift Christmas Eve right? Not Christmas Day?”

He nods, still looking tense and guilty. She can’t understand why though.

“Are you doing anything on Christmas? Any plans with Christie or Violet?”

“No,” he answers. “Violet’s with Jim’s family and Christie’s seizing the moment for a tropical vacation. She’ll be in Hawaii with some friends.”

“Wow! Good for her!” Sylvie says with a chuckle. Matt’s sister deserves some time away and that’s actually perfect for what she’s about to ask next. “Well, in that case, mom asked if you wanted to come to Fowlerton for the 25th and 26th? I told her I didn’t want to answer for you and that I’d ask.”

“Really?” He asks in surprise. “Your parents want me to come to Christmas?”

She nods and smiles softly at him. “They like you, Matt. Is that so shocking?”

“I’m not exactly the kind of guy parents get excited about,” he mutters with a sad sigh.

She bites her bottom lip. His desolate tone hurts her on his behalf. She wraps her arms around his neck and presses her forehead to his, keeping her eyes connected to his. “You’re the kind of guy _my_ parents are excited about. They can tell you love me and that’s all they care about. Honestly, that’s all I care about too.”

He nudges his nose against hers and bands his arms around her waist. He smiles against her lips before kissing her deeply. It’s an intrusively heartfelt kiss. She feels as if he pours everything he feels for her into his kiss. Every taste of his tongue, nip of his teeth, and press of his lips adds a new layer of love. More than just the lack of oxygen leaves her breathless.

When they pull apart he leaves his brow resting against hers. “I would love to go to Fowlerton with you over Christmas.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

Attending a Brett family Christmas is Matt’s first step to becoming a part of her family. The fact that he’s so eager to come warms her heart. Her parents already like Matt, but now she wants them to get to know him the way she does. She wants them to see his heart and his goodness. They need to be as certain as she is that he’s the one. It may seem soon to think that, but she can’t help it.

When you know, you know.

And she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt.

******

Next shift, Boden uses the collapse and their close call to get everyone to write a letter to a loved one that he will keep for them in the event something happens to them on a call.

It’s due by the end of shift.

Sylvie struggles with who to write one to at first, but then she realizes she _can_ write more than one. She pens one to her parents and then decides to write one to Matt. This is especially important to her given how he lost both Gabby and Hallie.

The letter to her parents is easy and she turns that one in within a couple of hours but she already knows the letter to Matt won’t be finished so quickly.

She and Shay get a call to assist on a building collapse. It resembles the chaos from last shift. One of the firefighters has a heart attack in the middle of all of it. They get him stable and transport him to Med before coming back for more people. Assisting at that scene takes up the first several hours of their shift.

When they make it back to the house, she and Shay stay in the ambo after cutting the engine.

“So, I told Allison about fostering,” Shay says, rubbing a hand across her face.

Her tormented tone and the bags under her eyes answer Sylvie’s next question before she even asks.

“How’d that go?” Sylvie asks with a wince.

“Well, better than it could have gone,” Shay replies with a sigh. “But not great. She asked for time to think. I’m giving her a little space.”

“I’m sorry, Shay,” Sylvie says as she reaches over and squeezes Leslie’s hand. “I’m sure she’ll come around.”

Shay nods and looks as if she’s trying to reassure herself. “Well, on the bright side my home inspection is finally scheduled. December 27th. And if that goes well then I should have my first placement after that.”

“That’s so exciting!” Sylvie exclaims, throwing her arms around Shay.

Shay chuckles and nods as she returns the hug. “It is. I’ve been visiting that Louie kid at his group home, and there are so many kids in need of a safe place. If I can help any one of those kids...God, it would be so worth it.”

They pull out of the embrace with watery smiles. Sylvie beams at her partner. “You are going to be the best foster mom ever. I just know it.”

“Thank you, Farmgirl, I certainly hope so. I’m just glad I don’t have to do any of this alone.”

“No way 51 would ever let that happen.”

******

At dinner, she and Matt sit side by side at the long table. He’s anxiously watching his phone. She furrows her brow at him and bumps his shoulder.

“You okay?”

He nods. “Yeah, put in a bid recently for a new job. Just waiting to hear back. It’s a long shot I’ll get it. These people are filthy rich and they’re used to bigger outfits than mine.”

“Your work is amazing, Matt. I’m sure you’ll get it,” she encourages. “Oh! Do you want me to answer when they call and pretend to be your receptionist? Like one of the larger companies would have!”

Matt laughs softly and then leans toward her to place a quick kiss to her cheek. “I appreciate the enthusiasm but I don’t think we need to resort to subterfuge just yet.”

“If you say so. Let me know if you change your mind,” Sylvie offers with a cheeky grin.

The rest of shift is rather quiet, not that any of them would ever label it that outloud. They pass the time with cleaning the house and the rigs and the gear. Before they know it, it’s seven in the morning and they’re all heading out.

She and Matt head to the house, sleep for a few hours, and then get back to work. They spend the day focused on the kitchen, Matt finishes the cabinets and countertop while Sylvie puts up the lemon wallpaper she picked out on the far wall. The rest of the walls will be white, allowing the lemon wallpaper to act as a decorative accent. The brightness of the lemon print has a vintage feel that’s quirky and cute and reminds her of happiness. She knows she’ll smile anytime she looks at that wall and that’s all that matters.

When they finish up Matt lets her shower first. She comes out and changes into one of his sweatshirts and a pair of leggings, towel drying her hair while he washes off next.

The water’s only been running a few minutes when his phone rings. 

She glances at the screen and doesn’t recognize the number. Remembering what Matt said about an important phone call for a job, she smirks and answers quickly.

She puts on her best professional receptionist voice. “Casey Construction, this is Sylvie speaking. How can I help you?”

“Whoa, fancy. When did Matt get an assistant?”

She blushes and bites back an apology. This doesn’t seem like the call he was waiting on and now she feels horrible about answering his phone.

“Oh, um, he’s just busy at the moment and I didn’t want him to miss the call if it was important.”

“Ah okay, well tell Matt that Morty called. He still hasn’t called me about setting an appointment for his natural gas hook up. Been waiting for him to call nearly two weeks now. If he wants it set up before Christmas then he better tell me when — that only leaves today or tomorrow since I don’t work Christmas Eve.”

Her expression pinches in confusion. What? “Is this for a job?”

“No, this is for his house — for him personally.”

“Are you sure? Because he told me his appointment had been pushed back until after Christmas.”

“For his appointment to be pushed back he’d have to make one. Last I heard from him was a couple of weeks ago. I’ve left him a few voicemails since then and haven’t heard a peep. Will you tell him I called?”

“Yeah, yeah of course. It’s Morty, right?”

“That’s me. Thanks, doll. You’re a lifesaver. Maybe if you tell him then he’ll actually call me back.”

Morty chuckles and she lets out a hollow snicker to match. “Sure, maybe.”

She hangs up with Morty and dread gathers in the deepest pit of her stomach, weighing her down like a sandbag. Matt never had an appointment for the natural gas hook up? _At all_? But she asked him several times and each time he assured her he was working on it. Okay, yes, the delays were strange but she knows from her renovation shows that things rarely go according to plan. She had no reason to question whether or not he was telling the truth.

Besides, why would he lie about _that_ of all things?

Unless…

He’s been acting strangely since she asked to move in earlier than planned and she is using the stove installation as a benchmark. Could he be delaying the installation to keep her from moving in?

Surely not. Moving in together was his idea!

But why else would he lie?

And _how_ could he lie? He’s never lied to her before! Why now?

It’s a tiny lie in the grand scheme of things but, as it’s the first time he’s ever been dishonest with her, it still hurts like hell.

She continues to run the towel over her hair in auto pilot, combing her hair as she contemplates what this means. A part of her is dreading the moment Matt steps out of the bathroom, but another part of her is desperate for answers.

Just a few weeks ago he was showing her the beautiful bathroom he built with her in mind and now she’s sitting on his bed wondering why he’d purposely keep her from moving in.

Matt steps into the bedroom with a towel around his waist and moves to his dresser for boxers and a shirt. His eyes scan over her as he passes where she sits at the foot of the bed.

“You okay?” He asks, brow furrowing slightly.

She holds out his phone to him, averting her eyes to the floor. “Your phone rang and I answered because I thought it might be about that job you told me about. I probably shouldn’t have but I thought I was being helpful.”

“Sylvie, there’s not a phone call I could ever get that you couldn’t hear,” he says with a light chuckle. “Don’t worry about it. Was it about the job?”

“No, it wasn’t,” she replies, breathing deeply and trying to remain calm. He’d just expressed impressive genuine trust while at the same time lying to her. “It was Morty. He wanted to know if you were ever going to make an appointment for the natural gas hook up in the kitchen. He said he hasn’t heard from you in _two_ weeks. I told him that couldn’t be true because you’ve assured me at least _three times_ that you already had an appointment.”

When there was no immediate reply to her statement, she glanced up at him. His mouth had dropped open slightly and the good humor she heard in his voice a moment ago was nowhere to be found. He was caught and he knew it. It was written all over his face. Guilt and embarrassment filled his eyes along with an unspoken apology.

It was all the confirmation she needed.

“You lied to me,” she states, swallowing thickly.

“I—I am going to make the appointment. I just haven’t yet,” he confesses, meeting her eyes with sincere regret.

“Why lie about that? Why put off the appointment? Do you…” Her question fades as she glances down at the comb she’s clutching in her hands. She’s not sure she wants to ask this next question but she has to know. “Do you not want me to move in anymore?”

“No! I do!” He assures her. “I’m not going to change my mind about that ever, but I’ve been afraid that...you might.”

Her brow furrows. “I won’t. I know I was hesitant at first but I’m in this, Matt. I want to share a home with you.”

“You do now, but you may not after I tell you what I’ve been dealing with lately,” Matt tells her while sighing hopelessly and running his hands through his hair.

“What do you mean? What have you been dealing with?” She asks in concern.

“Do you remember Mouch and Trudy’s wedding?” Matt begins with a furrowed brow. At her nod he continues while slipping on a pair of boxers and a shirt. “Donna made a comment that night that really threw me. She said she was glad to see you and me so happy and I thanked her but then she made a joke. I know it was harmless and she didn’t mean anythings by it—”

“What was the joke?” Sylvie asks, growing tired of the preamble.

“She told me to put a ring on it,” Matt answers, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck.

Sylvie flashes him a small grin. She feels immensely relieved. This she can handle. “That’s what’s been bothering you? Matt, you don’t need to worry. I have no plans to put our relationship on anyone else’s timetable. There’s no pressure to move any further forward right now. Not from me.”

“I know you don’t,” he replies. His expression sobers more and more by the second. “But it, uh, got me thinking.” He stops and gives her a hesitant glance. “You know I love you, right?”

“Of course I do,” Sylvie replies immediately. 

“And you know I don’t want anyone else but you?”

She nods and smiles warmly at him. “I certainly hope so. Never hurts to hear it outloud though.”

He nods. Her attempts to lighten his mood fall flat.

His reply is paired with a grim frown. “I just want that to be clear.”

The worry on his face causes a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. He’s saying wonderful things, but each question feels like the countdown on an explosive. The more he clarifies how he feels the closer this all gets to blowing up in her face.

“Matt,” she says with a nervous gulp. “Just spit it out. Please. What’s wrong?”

He blows out a breath and meets her eyes before answering her in rushed words as if ripping off a band-aid.

“I don’t want to get married.”

He was right to say it quickly -- to get it over and done with -- but it still feels like a slap to the face. It stings across her cheek and causes her eyes to water, with her mouth slightly agape. 

“I--I don’t understand,” she says as she blinks rapidly to hold her tears at bay. They won’t help. “We...we’ve talked about a future. A family. I _know_ you want kids. You said yourself you’ve wanted to be a father forever.”

“All those things are still true,” he assures her as he sits down beside her on the bed.

“Then what? You want them...just not with me?” Her voice sounds strangled and thick, even to her own ears.

“What? No, Sylvie, I told you. I don’t want anyone else but you. I want all the things we’ve talked about before -- with you and no one else. I just...I don’t want to get married or engaged. I--I can’t,” He says as he slides closer to her. “I love you with everything I am, babe, and that’s _why_ we can’t get married.”

Well, at least she can be assured his feelings haven’t changed. He sounds completely sincere and more than a little tearful himself. This can’t be just about marriage. She knows his parents had a horrible marriage but as long as she’s known him he’s talked about settling down. At one point, he told her he was afraid it would never happen for him. But here they are, in a position to plan a life together and he...doesn’t want to get married?

“I’m usually pretty good at reading you, Matt, but this isn’t coming together for me,” Sylvie tells him as she finally meets his eyes. “If this isn’t about our relationship or...me then what is it?”

“I’ve been engaged once before and all but officially engaged the second time,” he tells her before taking in a deep calming breath. “Both times I ended up losing the person I loved. Both times, I barely made it out of that grief alive. This may sound...stupid or superstitious but I just can’t shake it. I’m terrified that putting a ring on your finger means I’ll lose you too, and I cannot go through that again. Especially not with you.”

He grabs her hand and threads their fingers together and then uses his other hand to push a loose strand of hair behind her ear before cupping her cheek.

“Losing Hallie and Gabby nearly ended me, but losing you...God, Sylvie, I think I’d just stop breathing on the spot. I wouldn’t survive it,” he admits with glassy heartbroken eyes. “Just thinking about it makes me…” He stops and shakes his head before powering through his emotions. “Maybe it’s ridiculous and maybe I’m reading into something that isn’t there. Maybe my losses really are a coincidence, but I’m not willing to risk it. Not this time. Not when it comes to _you_.”

Oh god, his actual reasons make her almost wish this situation did have something to do with her. His real reasons threaten to crack her heart to match his. 

“I love you,” he assures her. “That will never change. I have a lot of baggage. You know that already. But if this particular piece of baggage is too much for you then I get it. I’ll understand. You deserve to have someone who’ll give you everything you want. I--I don’t know that I can. And that’s why I’ve been putting off the appointment. I’m afraid this might push you away and I was trying to enjoy every moment I might have left with you.”

She wants to promise him it’s not too much. She wants to assure him that she can handle every bit of his baggage. She _wants_ to tell him that a relationship doesn’t need rings or a certificate to be loving and committed. But she’s not sure if she wants to tell him that because that’s truthfully how she feels or because she knows that’s what would bring him peace. 

She’s quiet for too long. She’s not sure how much time has passed but she knows it too much based on how much Casey’s grip tightens around her hand. He presses his forehead to hers and closes his eyes. Her eyes begin to water and she knows they must be just as red and glassy as his. She decides to stop figuring out what to say and just speak from her heart. He gave her the painful truth so she should be brutally honest with him in turn.

“Have I fucked this up?” Matt asks her fearfully. 

She shakes her head and then brings her free hand up to softly card her fingers through the short hair on the side of his head. “No. You haven’t. You could never fuck things up by being honest, Matt. You only fuck it up when you lie to me—“

“Which I did,” he points out with a wince.

“Yes, you did. And I wish you had told me the truth from the start. Just because the truth is hard, doesn’t mean you get to keep it from me. I--I’m not sure how I feel about all of this or what to do with it.”

“I told you. It’s stupid I know.”

“Stop,” she says with a huff before arching away from him to get a good look at his face. Even with his eyes closed he looks gutted. “It’s not stupid. You can’t help how you feel and I would never expect you to. You’ve been through a ridiculous amount of trauma for one person and one lifetime. You told me a while ago that you felt cursed. I’ve never forgotten that. I can understand why you might be afraid of losing someone else.”

“But?” He asks as he opens his eyes again. She can see him waging a war between hope and resignation through those stormy blue irises. She can relate more than he probably knows. “I know there’s one coming. What is it?”

“But I don’t want to say something I don’t mean and without really knowing how I feel I...I don’t know how reassuring I can be for you right now. My knee jerk reaction is tell you I don’t need a ring or piece of paper to build a life and a family with you. I mean, this issue isn’t about commitment, right?”

“I said I don’t want anyone else and I mean that,” he repeats.

“And it’s not about not seeing a future for us?”

“No, I want a home and a family. None of that has changed.”

“It’s truly only about the act of putting a ring on my finger?”

“I know how ridiculous that sounds and if I were you I would doubt me too, but I promise you that’s all this is,” he swears. “I love you with every fiber of my being.”

“I love you too,” she replies softly. “So much that I don’t know what my life would look like without you in it. I mean you’re...you’re my person. You’ve been my person since long before we got together.” She blows out a shaky breath and closes her eyes against impending tears. “I want to say it’s not a problem, but I’m afraid I’ll only be saying it because I know that’s what you’d like to hear. I don’t want to say it now and then end up hurting you later if it turns out I didn’t really mean it.”

“You don’t have to give me an answer now, Sylvie,” Matt tells her before placing a featherlight kiss to her forehead. “Take all the time you need to think about it. I want you to do what makes you happy. That’s all I ever want for you.”

She considers his statement for a long, drawn out moment. And while it pains her to make the choice, she knows it’s the right thing to do. “I think I need to put some space between us for a little while,” she says.

He pulls back in alarm and shakes his head. “You’re leaving?”

“I can’t think straight about this when I’m around you. You want me to be happy and I know that, but, _God Matt_ , I want you to be happy too! If I stay here then all I’ll be focused on is making you happy. I need just a little bit of distance to sort this all out. I think I’ll go stay at mine and Stella’s tonight and tomorrow and then we’ll talk. It’ll just be a couple of days and then I--”

“Yeah, yeah okay. I get it.”

He sounds defeated -- as if he thinks he’s already lost her.

“Matt?”

He looks up at her slowly, as if he’s afraid of what he’ll see.

She decides to fire his earlier words right back at him. “You know I love you, right?”

He gives her a wan smile and nods, playing along. “Of course I do.”

“If I don’t do a gut check on myself now then I might end up hurting us both in the long run and that’s the last thing I want... _because_ I love you,” she explains. “It’ll just be a day or two and then we’ll talk about all of this again. I promise.”

She gets up from the bed to change and pack a bag. He watches her in sad silence, getting up from the bed to lean against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Am I being a selfish asshole about this?” He asks her when she starts to zip up her duffle bag. He pushes away from the door and looks up at the ceiling with a shake of his head. “I mean, should I even be asking you to stick this out for me? It’s my damage to deal with, not yours. You deserve someone who wants what you want--”

“Matt, stop.”

“Someone who won’t force you to put up with this cowardly shit. Should I let you go so you can find someone who might--”

“Matt!” she exclaims with audible tears catching over his name.

She cannot let him finish that statement. She may not know how she feels right now but she can’t bear the thought of what he’s suggesting. She knows he didn’t intend for it to be an ultimatum, but -- _holy shit_ \-- it felt like one. It felt like the kind of tactic Harrison might have used to get her to do what he wanted. The difference is that Harrison did it with purpose. She knows Matt and she knows he is _not_ Harrison. He’s upset and genuinely wondering if he’s making things too hard on her. But now is not the time for that particular discussion. 

One hurdle at a time, please.

Matt freezes instantly at her desperate tone. His expression is full of shock and remorse. He belatedly realizes he pushed it too far, talked _too much_. 

“I’m sorry,” he says with a thick swallow. “That wasn’t meant to--I’m not pressuring you or threatening you. I would never--”

“I know that,” she assures him. “I know _you_.”

“I _hate_ that I’m doing this to us.”

“You’re not doing anything. You can’t help how you feel,” she says as she slides the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She steps into his space and leans up on her toes to kiss him softly. “I’ll be back in a couple of days. We’ll talk more then. Okay?”

He runs a hand down the length of her arm as he nods. When he reaches her hand he wraps it tightly in his own and squeezes consolingly. “Okay.”

He walks her to the door and she stops just outside of it. She reaches up and caresses a hand over his cheek and into his hair. “Before I go, I need you to know something,” Sylvie says quietly. “I’m leaving to think about how important marriage is to me _and_ to think what you lying to me means. You’ve never lied to me before, Matt. _Never_.”

“I’m sorry—“

“I’m not done. Please let me finish,” she pleads as her eyes start to water again.

He nods and firmly shuts his mouth.

“Thank you,” she replies with a thick swallow. “You broke a little of my trust, Matt. I never thought you would do that. I—I do understand why and my heart hurts to know you feel this way, but I don’t know how I feel about your lying yet. I love you. I do, but I don’t have any answers right now.”

“Take all the time you need,” he concedes, as they both move out the door and toward her car. “Even if you need more than a couple of days.”

They walk in silence, caught up in their individual spirals of doubt and fear. Sylvie doesn’t truly want to leave Matt but she knows herself. If she stays she’ll tell him what he wants to hear instead of examining her honest feelings. She won’t do that to Casey. A relationship built on a lie won’t work.

“Call me when you get to your place?” He pleads. “Just to let me know you got there safe.”

“Of course,” Sylvie confirms, opening her driver’s side door.

“I’m sorry,” Matt croaks as he stops in front of her on the other side of the car door. She can tell he wants to reach for her by the way his hands clench and release at his sides, but he never does. “I’m sorry I self destructed and dragged you into it.”

“No, Matt, that’s the problem,” she challenges, meeting his eyes with a raw stricken gaze. “You self destructed and pushed me out of the way. I get you wanted to protect me but I don’t need that. I want to know what you think and what you feel and how you struggle. Eventual ring or no ring, that’s an unchanging fact. Marriage may not be make or break for me — I don’t know yet — but us being open and honest with each other? _That is_. I need to know you can let me in, especially when what you’re feeling is something ugly or dark. If you can’t do that, then what is the point of there being an _us_?”

There are unshed tears flooding her vision and if she plans to drive away from him then she needs to get them under control. She thought she knew what they had. She thought honesty was the foundation they built everything else on, but now she isn’t sure.

True, it was one small lie, but it was one repetitive lie to hide a struggle that would eventually affect her life as much as his. She can’t let him think that’s okay. She learned the hard way that hiding her struggles from Matt only made them worse. Now, it’s his turn to learn that lesson too.

She sniffles and wipes her eyes on the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

“I won’t do it again,” Matt swears. “I promise you I will never cut you out again. I want you in my life, Sylvie. For however long that life is — I only want you. I’ll do whatever I need to if it means I keep you.”

Except marry her, but she keeps that observation to herself. She doesn’t know how to respond to him at the moment. There are too many emotions swirling around inside of her. Every usual way they say goodbye feels wrong.

All she can do is nod and say, “I’ll see you next shift, Matt.”

His Adam’s Apple bobs as his eyes leave hers and he steps back from her door. 

“Next shift,” he affirms, still refusing to look at her.

She drives away with tears gathering in her lashes and shaking hands. The dam doesn’t burst until she parks outside of her apartment. Sleeping in her own place seems unnatural after so many nights spent in Matt’s house and his bed. She _hates_ this. But what choice does she have?

It takes Stella a half hour to notice her car idling in the driveway. Sylvie doesn’t want to think about what she must have looked like when she finally opened the car door and stepped into the cold night air. It must have been bad because Stella took one look and immediately wrapped her arms around her.

“No matter what happened,” Stella murmurs, hugging her tightly. “Casey is an idiot.”

A watery laugh passes over her lips despite her sadness and frustration. Leave it to Stella to cheer her up.

“Come on, we’ll get drunk and talk it out,” her roommate says as she leads her toward their front door. “And in the morning, whatever it is won’t seem quite so impossible.”

She can only hope that’s true because the alternative is losing Matt and that’s simply _not_ an option.


End file.
